A Fighting Heart
by Mitsuuuu
Summary: -Summary Inside- Bee loses his brother in a tragic battle, then shortly his creators, leaving him to fend for on his own. Alone, he's found by Optimus Prime. The Cons capture him. What will be the little one's fate? Life with the Cons, the Autos, or death
1. Chapter I: The Call to a Youngling

**Note**: _I do not own Transformers, as you all know. They are Hasbro's and Paramount Pictures'._

In this fanfiction, Bumblebee is a youngling, not a sparkling. The parents in this fic are obviously made up; I don't think anyone knows who Bee's parents are. o.O; The timeline guides have been deleted to avoid future confusion, which had already occured earlier. I don't want to risk that again, but understand that this is before Mission City and before the time of the movie, way before. The war is still heated and going however, and this fiction will focus on Bee.

* * *

Bumblebee's creators do not want him to be a soldier after his brother dies in an unexpected attack on his squad. Decepticon drones attack Bee's unit/home, and the youngling loses his parents in a matter of breems. Alone, he's found by Optimus Prime and Jazz, and taken to their Autobot base. [Possible OCs. Will the bot choose to become an Autobot warrior? Or remember his parents words and remain a normal Cybertronian civilian? Read and respond, and find out! x3

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**Chapter One – Call to a Youngling **

Bumblebee's wide blue optics were fixed on the holoscreen as if it were endowing him with some sort of answer to life, some sort of answer to the biggest question the universe could throw at him. But, no – The holoscreen glowed of horrifying footage of the heated Autobot-Decepticon war, overwhelming to a youngling like him.

But, for some reason, he wasn't afraid.

"…This unexpected attack has certainly elevated the heat of this war, without a doubt…"

The youngling kept staring, his faceplate highlighted in fear. He took every word into his processor, storing it in his files, memorizing.

"…Under no circumstances, will we, the Autobots, let this event cut us down. It will not weaken our dedication, nor will it cripple our pride."

Bumblebee whirred once hands suddenly took his tiny frame, a femme cradling him up into her arms until he lie against her pale yellow breastplate.

"Bumblebee, baby, you're not supposed to be watching this..."

The young mech looked up, meeting the warm blue optics of his mother. She shook her head, fingering over his faceplate gently with her fingertips. She smiled.

"You know better," she sighed.

Bumblebee blinked as he shifted his optics back to the screen, staring.

"We ask for the support from the families of our soldiers, please. Each spark stay with us, stay optimistic, confident – We will not let this happen again. Not to this degree…"

The femme's optics rounded and she lifted her head to the holoscreen, listening intently with straining audio receptors. She subconsciously kneeled by the screen, keeping the mechling supported against her spark chamber.

"Primus…" she breathed.

Footsteps approached toward the two, pausing after a short moment. A hand sat against the femme's shoulder and Bumblebee turned his little head, optics blinking innocently at his father above him.

"Lexine, what's wrong?" his father's smooth voice said to the femme. The mech looked down to his son, electric blue optics upturning as they smiled. Thick fingers soon met the youngling's cheekplates, dancing against their gentle contours and curves. "Bumblebee, did you something, son?" He laughed, making the bot giggle.

Lexine shook her head, managing a nervous swallow. "N-No, babe…Look."

The mech turned his blue optics to the screen. Bumblebee watched as each one scanned the images the screen displayed, his father's brow furrowing with worry. The youngling followed their gaze, shifting his optics to the holoscreen.

Again, he soaked it all in.

"D-Daddy, what's going on?" the mechling murmured, watching as the frightful footage repeated itself. He reached out a little yellow finger to a Decepticon on the screen, whimpering. "Who is that, Daddy? A-Autobot?"

His father only stared, as if he didn't hear his son's inquires.

Lexine moved her arms tighter against Bumblebee's body, pressing him against her spark. "Sh-Shh, baby," she silenced him. One of her hands fell over the mechling's optics and he whirred, turning his head into his mother's breastplate. "D-Don't look…"

Bumblebee obeyed, keeping his optics away from the holoscreen, his antennae perking at the sounds from the footage. He shivered at sudden screams and cries of pain, at officers barking orders and soldiers releasing their battle cry into the fight, and the Decepticon's angry roars in return.

They echoed in his head…

"Go, go, go!!"

"Move it!"

Gunfire. Plasma fire.

Screams.

"Cover fire!"

A roar into the air…

And everything went silent.

"As you can see, the Autobot squad was besieged, unexpectedly. Had they been ready…"

Bumblebee shivered and clutched his mother's arms. Lexine held him more secure.

"B-Bee, quiet, quiet," she cooed, her voice quivering as she was on the verge of tears.

"Honey, what is it?" his father cooed.

She shook her head. "N-Not around Bumblebee, Jaryn. I c-can't…H-He shouldn't…"

"Shh, Lex, you don't have to…I-I understand, baby."

"…Y-You know?"

Silence – Heavy, deafening.

Bumblebee squirmed uneasily. What was wrong?

Sensing the sorrow in his creators' voices, Bumblebee whirred, shaking his head quickly to peek his optics through his mother's hand, looking up at them wide-eyed. Lexine had her head tucked in Jaryn's neck, pale blue tears dotting her delicate-yellow cheekplates. His whirr caught their attention. They looked down.

"Sweetie…" whispered the femme, brushing her fingers against his little jawline.

Bumblebee's own optics welled at the sight of his crying mother. He looked to the holoscreen, ignoring what he had just been told, blinking at it as the war-filled footage repeated itself again, the sounds faint, but still there in his receptors.

He pointed at the screen, paying no mind to the little pull back his father gave to his arm. The mechling twittered. "Th-That's what I'll be when I grow up," his little voice said. He added a moment later, "I wanna be like th-them," when a heroic Autobot squad appeared onscreen.

Jaryn shook his head. "N-No, son," he said, gently, yet edged in authority. "N-No…"

"I-It's too dangerous…" breathed Lexine.

Nothing more…

Bumblebee slowly withdrew his arm, stealing a nervous glance at his forlorn creators, his tiny spark weighted as he couldn't figure out the reason for their sorrow.

Bumblebee turned his head away in time as his mother slowly returned her hand over his tiny faceplate, her gentle fingers fiddling with his yellow antennae. He purred, the sounds from the holoscreen slowly dying, fading to murmurs, to a collage of conversations jumbling in his processor.

"Do not be overwhelmed by this misfortune, do not be frightened…"

Bumblebee peeked out an optic again, watching the screen.

"The enemy will be defeated, with the spirit of Primus, do not lose hope…"

Footage of Autobots played yet again, soldiers running, Decepticons roaring…

He didn't shiver at the enemy, only feeling an unusual flutter in his spark.

A soldier's calling.


	2. Chapter II: Sparkfire

**Chapter Two – Sparkfire **

Bumblebee fluttered open his wide baby blue optics with a soft twitter from his throat, finding himself on his back in his metal crib. The bot's eyes scanned around the darkened bedroom and he gulped when he noticed his parents' berth empty, his fear of being alone making his little frame shiver. He hopped himself up onto his feet, tiny hands gripping the crib's rail as he leaned forward.

His chin trembled, blue optics shimmering. "M-Mmm…"

He looked to the door, finding it closed only half way, a golden ray of light spilling through the opening. Bumblebee tried to lift a small foot onto the rail, but only sent himself back on his aft in a tiny grunt. He whimpered.

"M-Mommy…!"

He heard no one. Maybe he wasn't crying loud enough. But, before he could try again, voices, familiar voices, started conversing just outside his bedroom. The bot jumped up again, clutching the rail as his little antennae perked up.

"Jaryn, Bumblebee will find out eventually," came a femme's voice. "We can't hold this away from him."

"If we tell him…" his father sighed, not knowing how to continue. "…If we tell Bumblebee, imagine what it would do to him. Losing his brother…"

The bot froze, and he surely thought his spark did too. His vision blurred, pale blue tears trickling from wide optics onto delicately curved cheekplates. He blinked at them, but didn't bother to wipe them away.

_"Losing a brother…"_

On the verge of sobbing, he looked to the berth that was fixed beside his parents', the one that hadn't been used to such a while, the one…that belonged to his _brother_.

_"Losing his brother…"_ those words echoed again.

"N-No…" the bot whined. "…No!"

He clearly understood what those words meant.

Bumblebee whimpered, suddenly grasping the rail even tighter. He fell on his bottom, pushing his knees to his chest and burying his tiny head in his yellow hands. His entire frame shook and his little spark wrenched, twisted and squirmed horribly inside him, making him sob uncontrollably in a fit of sorrow.

It only worsened when he heard him mother crying, heard her sniffles and groans as if she were in pain. The bot opened his optics, looking through tear-blurred vision at two shadows on the wall. The mech, his father, held Lexine close, swaying her. She shook.

"I-I _hate_ this war," she sputtered out, words muffled into Jaryn's chest. "…_Hate_ it."

Jaryn shook his head, stroking her back lightly. "In time, it will," he whispered.

"He was so innocent. My baby…He didn't deserve to die that way."

"No Autobot deserves such a thing."

Bumblebee buried his little face again, shivering. He tried to force himself to believe that what he was hearing wasn't real, that this was a bad dream he'd wake up from to the security of his mother's arms, to the warm blue optics of his brother. He felt the tears drop off his chin, and he smeared them, fighting the urge to wail out. But, he couldn't. He threw his little head back and screamed.

"No!!"

Instantly, the door swung open, his father quickly striding over to the crying bot. He lifted the mechling from his crib and cradled him at his spark, hoping its warm thrums would comfort the shivering sparkling. Bumblebee snuggled instinctively into his father's chest, choked sobs hiccupping out of his mouth.

"Son, what's the matter?" cooed the mech, swaying the bot against him. "Somethin' scare you?"

Bumblebee whirred shakily and pointed a little finger to his brother's berth. Jaryn didn't need his son to go any further, his own optics widening. He looked to his femme as she slowly entered the room, shaking his head slowly.

"Lexine…"

She blinked at him, wiping the tears from her pale cheekplates. "What's wrong?"

Bumblebee nuzzled his head into Jaryn's spark, shutting his optics.

The mech frowned and slowly gazed down at the mechling. "He knows."

Lexine made a face. "Knows what?"

Jaryn only tilted his head towards the empty berth of their other son. Lexine's optics widened, a shaky breath rushing through her vents.

"N-No, he…" she paused, looking at her son. "He heard us…?"

Bumblebee's optic lids lifted, revealing bright sky blue behind layers of tears. The bot nodded, tiny hands clutching his father's chest.

"…H-He's gone," he stuttered, sobs returning. "M-Mommy, why?"

The femme shook her head at him, lifting her hand to stroke his tiny frame.

"Baby, shh. Don't say that."

"M-Mommy, why?! Why did the bad people hurt him?!"

She stared, watching her baby bot fall into tears, burry his little head in his father's chest. Jaryn shook his head, covering the mechling's head with a massive palm, using his thumb to stroke the back of it. He leaned down, softly pressing his lips against the sparkling's head.

"Quiet, Bumblebee," he whispered, deep blue optics drooping.

"Why!" the bot wailed out again.

The mechling shivered, peeking out an optic to the empty berth of his brother. His chin trembled whilst his mind played a trick on him, making him see that young mech was laying there. His electric blue optics flared at Bumblebee, a friendly smile curving his metal lips. His body's framework, burly from yellow and black armor, fitted him perfectly, displaying a shoulder cannon very well. The mech waved at Bumblebee and in a blink of an optic, he was gone.

Bumblebee wailed again, muffling his cries into his father's chest. Again, gentle fingers brushed along his frame, fondling with his delicate wires. He turned his head to see the mirage disappear, waving a little yellow hand at it.

"…B-Bye, brother…"

// 3; \\

**Flashback to Battle, Same One Displayed on Holoscreen **

**1349 Hours **

Sparkfire crouched low behind the shrubbery, breaths in and out of his vents coming sharp and fast like the beats of his spark. Blue optics scanned the battlefield on high alert, examining any little thing until it was identified, processed, and stored in his mind. A team of mechs snuck through wet grass, cannons ready, weapons drawn.

"Are they gone yet?" whispered one. "They still there?"

"Shhh. What if they _are_?"

"Primus, don't they ever quit?"

"Everyone _quiet_," Sparkfire ordered. "Listen…"

All was silent, except for the heavy rain that fell from the blue-black Cybertronian sky and pounded against their armor. A cannon hummed, catching everyone's attention. Optics turned to one mech, younger than them all, his faceplate bright in shock.

_"Drone!"_ he shouted, pointing ahead of him.

The soldiers turned and only hesitated for a mere astrosecond before plasma shot out of their cannons, bullets spitting out of guns, heated lasers flashing. Sure enough, a mighty Decepticon drone stood before them all, red hot optics flaring.

Sparkfire waved a hand, signaling for the group to split up. He departed from them all, firing twice from each shoulder cannon at one of the bulky drones. It shrieked and aimed for him with one arm cannon.

"Autobot _scum_," he spat. Plasma soared through the distance that separated Sparkfire and the drone, and impacted the young mech's chest. Sparkfire clutched the wound, stumbling back a step. He couldn't back out now, so he aimed, trying to see through drone through blurring vision. He heard the drone roar in pain, then another sound as plasma soared again.

[ Boom Plasma impacted him again and he stumbled to the side, shutting his optics in his dismay. He regained only some of his strength, groaning as hot plasma scorched through the metal protecting his spark, burning through. Sparkfire ignored it, aimed again, but was cut short when a massive claw clutched his shoulder, forcing him around.

Big blue optics stared into heated red, a Decepticon's, and Sparkfire didn't think twice as he fired repeatedly until the drone bellowed. It managed to wrap a claw around his throat, grasping, making air intake vents shut unexpectedly. The drone laughed, then shoved him against a tree. Sparkfire fired again and again, but the beast kept coming as if he weren't firing at all.

It aimed at him with two arm cannons now, each one humming loudly to life. They moved in front of his faceplate, spilling warm gold light onto him. Sparkfire gulped, he stopped firing…

"Any last words?" the drone teased him in a hiss.

Sparkfire's optics narrowed. "Do what you want with me," he said lowly.

He screamed when hot plasma burned into his chassis again, snaking its way through his circuitry and wiring until it reached his spark, making his entire frame jolt and twitch. His optics shut and he leaned back to release another cry, but his voice modulators crackled dead, his processor malfunctioning.

"_Pathetic_ youngling…"

The drone's words made him shiver as he fell to his side, feeling energon trickle from his open wound. He felt lost in nothingness, felt his mind slipping away until he couldn't grasp it.

[ Thud, thud, thud The drone moved closer. A cannon hummed in his receptor, then drew quieter as it shifted to his chest again, to the spark that barely pulsed.

"N-No…" he managed to groan.

He knew what was coming.

[ Fwoom! Plasma impacted his spark and he screamed, hoarsely, with the little modulators his had left.

"Sparkfire!" a mech shouted his name.

Blue optics fluttered open, flickering, gazing up into the blue-black sky. Rain smudged his energon from his chest, revealing a fading spark. He groaned, his world blacking out around him.

"_Sparkfire…!" _

His name echoed. That mech's voice rang in his mind.

At his last drop of consciousness, he saw his mother, Lexine, his father, Jaryn, and precious baby brother, the newborn, the innocent little bot…Bumblebee.

"_Sparkfire…"_


	3. Chapter III: Decepticons Attack

**Chapter Three – Decepticons Attack **

**One Morning…**

Jaryn cradled Bumblebee in the crook of his arm, supporting him with his sturdy chest, letting the little bot lean back against him. He lifted a tiny cube of energon to the sparkling's mouth, tilting it back to gently pour out the liquid. Bumblebee gulped in down, smiling up at his father with a happy chirp. Jaryn nodded back, rubbing little circles into the bot's tummy.

"S'good, Bee?" he cooed, grinning.

Bumblebee whirred, continuing to gulp down the fluid into his tanks. Jaryn patted them.

"Good, bot."

_"The attacks are definitely by Decepticon drones. But, we know not where they come from…"_

Jaryn turned, looking to the holoscreen and his worried sparkmate, sitting before it, blue optics glued to the screen. Bumblebee gurgled, wriggling around to fix his baby blue optics on the screen. They widened, yellow antennae perking, taking in every word.

_"As you can see, the attacks are moving southward, toward this community…" _

Their community.

Bumblebee whirred as Jaryn lifted him higher in his arms, standing to his feet quickly. The mech moved toward the screen, optics widened, bright in concern.

"Wh-What…?" he whispered.

_"We advise all in this area shown to be more than ready for anything. Keep your scanners on high alert."_

The holoscreen switched off in an astrosecond. Lexine stood slowly, optics drooped, glazed over with pale blue tears of worry and fear. Jaryn stepped at her side, holding their baby mechling against his strong chestplate.

"Baby - "

"They'll attack our district, Jaryn," she cut him off, tears spilling onto pale cheekplates. "W-We can't stay here. N-Not with the drones coming our way."

Jaryn shook his head. "We'll be fine as long as we take heed of what they just reported," he corrected her, voice firm, yet remaining gentle at his disarrayed femme. He slid a reassuring arm around her middle, his droopy blue optics staring into her tear-glazed pair. He gave her a faint smile. "Honey, I promise. We will be safe."

"You heard what they just reported!"

Jaryn blinked. "Honey - "

She only looked away swiftly, listening to her baby mechling whirr. Lexine was only worried about her family. In the pit of her spark, she knew taking note of the news would do nothing. Reporters were Cybertronians too, robots, that weren't perfect and they sure as hell didn't know everything.

Lexine darted from the room, disappearing into the recharging quarters. Jaryn sighed, lifting the mechling to his shoulder, watching as Bumblebee turned his little head, wide baby blue optics staring to where his mother had disappeared. The mech shook his head, cradling the baby bot gently. He kissed his little receptor.

The mechling hummed, clicking as his little frame shivered. "Wh-What's wrong with Mommy, Dada?"

"Bumblebee, don't you worry about Mommy," he murmured. He lowered Bumblebee to the floor, patting the bot's head gently as he started moving toward the quarters.

The mechling whirred, lifting his little hands as he clicked. "Dada!"

Jaryn turned.

"Dada, are we gonna be okay?"

The mech sighed, stepping forward a few steps before he lifted a worried Bumblebee in his arms again. Bumblebee's tiny frame quaked, his wide blue optics alive in innocence, and something else that made Jaryn's own spark wrench, drop a little inside him.

He saw fear.

Jaryn laid Bumblebee against his shoulder, stroking circles into the yellow metal of his back. "Bumblebee," he cooed, sighing. "Everything will be okay, alright?" He kissed the bot's head. "Daddy and Mommy will be here for you."

Bumblebee closed his optics. Somehow, in the pit of _his_ little spark, he doubted his own father's words, making his optic ducts well with tears. He didn't think everything would be okay, he didn't think Mommy and Daddy would make a wise choice regarding their protection…

He thought the Decepticons would come.

**//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\**

**That Night in the Recharging Quarters…**

The mechling cuddled his tiny frame between both of his parents, letting his mother slip an arm around his little body and draw him near her fair yellow breastplate, closer to her spark chamber. Bumblebee whirred, tiny hands gripping one of hers. Jaryn reached over subconsciously in his dreaming, stroking the youngling's body gently.

"Dada…" murmured Bumblebee, wriggling onto his back. Jaryn rubbed circles into the bot's stomach plating, making him giggle as his full tanks were stroked.

"M'here, Bee," came the groggy coo in reply. "Daddy's here."

[ Thud, thud, thud. Distant footsteps echoed in the distance, off from their unit…

Coming closer too quickly.

Lexine, her sensors on high alert, jolted awake, optics wide in fear and shock. Air intake vents worked quicker, her breaths harsh and fast as she reached over to shake Jaryn awake, the mech slowly lifting his optic lids. The mechling remained asleep on his back, his soft snores audible.

Lexine sat erect. "J-Jaryn," she whispered. "Don't you hear that?"

He shook his head, snapping into reality. "Hear what?" he yawned. "Honey, I think you're too paranoid. There's nothing - "

[ Thud, thud, thud, thud, thud.

Jaryn's optics widened. He stared at his femme.

"L-Lexine…"

"We've got to get out of here, Jaryn," she said, taking their mechling in her arms. "Bumblebee…We can't jeopardize his life."

[ Thud, thud, thud, thud, thud.

"Jaryn, what do we do?!"

Jaryn shifted off of the metal recharge berth, planting his feet on the ground. Shoulder cannons whirring from their concealed position behind plates of shoulder armor, and an arm cannon cocking unleashed, the mech pointed one hand to a corner of the room, gesturing for the femme and mechling to report there.

"Honey, stay hidden," he told her softly. "If they attack…I'll defend."

Lexine shook her head. "Baby, are you crazy?!" she whispered madly. "They could kill you like they've done to hundreds of Cybertronians already!"

"Trust me on this one," he murmured. "Please…"

Nothing more.

[ Thud, thud, thud, thud, thud.

The footsteps weren't so distant any longer. They seemed like they were just outside their unit. Bumblebee snapped awake, his own baby blue optics wide as they stared up at his mother, his chin quivering. Questions begging to be answered darted throughout his little processor, overwhelming the bot. He whimpered and clung to his mother's breastplate, shutting his optics.

"M-Mommy!" he whined. "Mommy, what's going on?!"

"Shhh, shhh, Bumblebee," she coaxed, brushing pale fingers across his tiny frame. Lexine sat in the corner, hugging the mechling to her chestplate. "Stay quiet for Mommy."

Bumblebee whirred, watching his father, prepared for battle, ease toward the door of their quarters. The bot twittered lowly in his throat, returning wide baby blue optics to his mother's. "D-Daddy will be okay?"

Lexine nodded, smiling faintly. "Y-Yes, Daddy will - "

[ _Boom_ A massive hole tore through one wall coupled by the angry roar of a Decepticon drone, its crimson hot optics flaring almost blindingly at the Cybertronians in the room. It bellowed and aimed cannons for them all, stepping in two massive, mighty steps forward. Lexine scrambled to her feet, desperately dashing around the recharge berth. Jaryn moved aside.

"Lexine, run!" he called after her as she disappeared from the room. "Go!"

The femme ran, through the rooms and halls that made up their unit. The mechling in her arms wailed, tears spilling onto his cheekplates. She shook her head as they stepped outside. She opened her mouth to entice the bot, but her optics fixed on what was officially the most horrific sight she'd ever seen in her lifetime, silencing her immediately.

Their entire district was in _flames_, massive drones parading through the land, firing at hopeless, innocent Cybertronian civilians and units. The screams and cries that entered the air were horrendous, making her own frame quake in fear. Bumblebee screamed in terror, clawing at his mother's breastplate.

"M-Mommy!" he cried as if she weren't there. He buried his head into her chestplate, forcing his little receptors to pick up the sounds of her thrumming spark, trying to block out the sounds of gunfire, pain, terror…

Hell.

Lexine dashed, hugging Bumblebee tighter. She hid in a rock cave, pressing a crying mechling against her chestplate. Bumblebee shivered, whimpering, shaking uncontrollably. He looked up at his mother with tear filled optics, then turned to look behind them.

"Dada!" he called into the warfare, rewarded with plasma fire. "Dadaa!"

Screams, gunfire, roars…

No Dada.

Lexine turned the bot's head away. He buried it back into her chestplate, shivering.

"Dadaaaa…"

Lexine shut her optics, her own tears beginning to spill. She shook her head, trying to delete every thought that told her Jaryn wasn't okay, that he wasn't there, that he was hurt. Jaryn _was_ okay, she told herself. This battle would be over in a matter of breems.

They would be okay.

She shook her head again. "Bumblebee, Daddy'll be okay…" she sighed. "He'll be okay." Her optics flew open when she heard the mechling scream, heard him wail, forcing his tiny frame deeper against her breastplate. Her optics widened when they fastened upon a mighty form before them, its entire body fitted in steel colored armor, optics as red as the fire itself. Cannons were fixed on its shoulders, a mace made up one of its arms, every weapon aimed for them.

It snarled angrily from the depths of its throat.

Lexine didn't know what to do. Running, it would only get her. Hopeless, she hugged the mechling against her breastplate, turning him away, making his shrill cries strike the war-filled air. The Decepticon stepped forward and she held the bot even more secure.

If anyone was going to get hurt, it'd be her. Bumblebee was precious, innocent, a baby bot. He didn't deserve any pain or suffering.

The drone roared. "Step out of the cave, Autobot," it growled, cannons pulsing. "Or prepare to be obliterated."

The femme shook her head, blue optics flaring. "You're not hurting my mechling," she snapped back confidently. "Leave him alone."

Bumblebee shook.

"The mechling," the drone laughed. The cannon warmed, whirred to life as the Decepticon took one massive step forward, aiming the cannon low for both of them. "…Such an easy target."


	4. Chapter IV: Nightmare

Well, here it is! So sorry for the long wait! Y'know how it is...with homework and after school things.

Enjoyyy and except some new characters coming soon!

* * *

**Chapter Four – Nightmare **

**Only a Few Minutes Later…**

"Mommyyyy!" the mechling shrieked, a tiny yellow hand reaching out to the femme as a plasma projectile impacted her chestplate, the very center of it where her spark laid. A pale blue flash of light struck the air momentarily coupled with the cry of Lexine as she fell to the ground, blue optics flickering. They stared right at Bumblebee in the last moment of life, her faint yellow hand, too, reaching for her baby bot. Her fingers brushed his cheekplates.

"B-Baby…"

Bumblebee's fit of sobs couldn't have been more intense, shaking him violently as he gripped one of his mother's fingers. The faintest smile curled her metal lips, her optics shutting offline for over a second, then returning online. She shook.

"R-Run, Bumblebee," she breathed. "G-Go."

But, he couldn't will his little legs to move.

_"Don't take your problems with you  
Just leave them where they lay  
Forget about all of your troubles  
And just enjoy today."_

"M-Mommy, don't go," chirped Bumblebee in a hiccupped sob. "Mommy…"

"I love you, my Bee…"

He had to strain his audios to hear her.

Lexine suddenly turned, her innocent optics meeting the red hot pair of the Decepticon drone who had willingly given her this fate, its faceplate donning an evil smirk. The plasma cannon rose to the femme lying hopeless on the ground, the weapon glowing, then pulsing to life, steady, warm, growing hotter and hotter with each second that went by. The Decepticon chuckled lowly in its steel colored chest.

"Consider this your last moment," it growled.

Bumblebee cried out. "S-Stop!"

The drone ignored him. _One Autobot at a time, _it thought. _I'll get to you, youngling. _

And without another word, the drone fired, everything seeming as if it were in slow motion in the mechling's fear-stricken optics, the scream of pain from his mother striking his audios, entering his processor, and sending shivers up every wire in his body. He had never heard such a sound like that ever before…

Nor had he seen his mother in such pain.

All he could do was cry and back away.

He didn't speak. He didn't watch. He only looked away with a quaking frame, optics shut.

The groans of pain wrenched his little spark.

Footsteps sounded and, thinking the monster had disappeared, Bumblebee turned, pale tears dotted on his faceplate. The picture of Lexine, her entire form crumpled up, metal curling inward on her chest as it sizzled, smoke rising…Bumblebee wished he were dreaming in a nightmare. He wished so he could wake up and find himself in his parents' arms, the comforting thrums of their sparks warming him…

Heaven, it was. And this was a living Hell. The Pit for sure.

Lexine turned her head so slowly, faceplate twisted in pain. "B-Bumblebee…"

Bumblebee shivered and stepped forward, keeping an optic on the drone that stood nearby. The bot whirred sadly and pressed his little body against one of the femme's cheekplates, shaking, optics shutting as he choked out sobs. Lexine's optic lids fell.

"Bumblebee…" she breathed again, her voice so dry. "…L-Love you."

_You're with me when I'm lonely.  
You're with me when I'm scared.  
You're with me every minute of the day.  
I'll always know you cared._

Bumblebee whimpered, watching her finger tap his tiny spark chamber. She didn't speak, and she didn't have to. Bumblebee understood what she was telling him. She was telling him that even though she wouldn't be with him, she'd always be in one place.

In the mechling's heart.

_The way my tears fill my eyes,  
When I think of us apart,  
Start fading now, and I start to smile,  
You'll always be in my heart._

Her internal systems groaned slowly offline, her finger dropping as her entire form grew lifeless. Bumblebee hugged her faceplate tightly, shutting baby blue optics as the tears poured out of them again. When the drone's footsteps started again, he cried out softly, slowly turning his little head to the massive robot with optics wide and completely innocent.

The drone scowled and snarled in its throat. "Pathetic…" The Decepticon leaned down and took the mechling's arm in between two of his claws. He lifted the crying youngling to his red optics, slitting them as he looked Bumblebee over.

"I know exactly what I will do to you," he droned, scarlet optics flashing, making Bumblebee wriggle in an attempt to escape the Decepticon's grasp. But, the beast didn't give, holding Bumblebee's arm tighter until the sharp tips of his claws dug in. Bumblebee screamed, throwing his little head back. The drone only smirked.

"That's right, youngling. _Scream_."

Bumblebee whimpered, wide optics opening to let tears spill from their ducts. The drone held Bumblebee by the back of his neck, lifting a claw to the baby bot's spark chamber. The claw dug in, making the mechling kick and squirm as he heard metal scraping, felt the massive finger slip between space among armor plating. The claw tore through wires, snapping their sensitiveness and causing the most unpleasant jolts to snake up the mechling's systems, all the way to his processor. He shivered, feeling his tiny spark beat quicker by the drone's finger as the beast scraped his metal again.

Wide blue optics stared into heated red, and they stared, the youngling frightened. The drone frowned with a hardened faceplate, carelessly dropping the mechling onto the ground on his aft. Bumblebee grunted and looked up.

The Decepticon growled. "Why waste my time killing a _youngling_…?" he muttered to himself, turning away. "He won't make it for a single breem."

The mechling couldn't have any sense of survival skills, being that young. Therefore, the drone walked away in massive footsteps, leaving the bot to himself.

All by himself.

Alone.

Bumblebee whimpered as the tears continued to fall, looking around with scanning optics for any sign of his father, any sign of _help_. Sobbing, he stood on his little feet, wandering away from his mother who lay dead of the ground, not looking back once to revisit the terrible sight.

"Daddy!!" His voice echoed…

And received no response.

He was alone.

Vulnerable.

Prone to harm.

Through tear blurred vision, the youngling looked around with desperateness beating furiously in his little spark. No one was near, but the sounds of plasma, machine, and laser gun fire refused to cease its striking of the air. Each cry of a fallen Autobot, every groan of the dying, sent a scar to his spark, twisting it painfully.

Here the mechling was, in warfare.

A youngling in the middle of a battle…

He scurried into the cave where he had just been with his mother, pressing his knees to his yellow chest. Whimpering, his head buried itself between his legs, tears staining his armor.

"P-Primus, help m-me," the bot prayed, optics lifting to the dark, blue-black sky. Rain fell, and thunder clapped, making his head burry itself again.

What a nightmare.

"H-Help me…"


	5. Chapter V: Hope

Ohhh, I was gonna get this chapter up yesterday, but I went to bed really early, still trying to get over the flu, and I kinda...forgot. I always forget things when I'm sick. Lol. Well, anyways, here it is, and I'm okay with this chapter, mehh', tell me what y'all think. xD Have fun, and enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter Five – Hope **

**Four Breems Later…**

Bumblebee's tiny form curled itself up into a tight ball whilst it pressed against the cool rock of the cave, wriggling itself deeper into it in fear of being discovered again by the monster that had hurt him. His optics were shut tightly and pale blue energon tears refused to stop leaking from under his lids, smudging against his cheekplates every time he rubbed them into the ground, not caring if dirt encrusted his metal skin.

The mechling was in recharge and the sounds of battle had died down to barely a whisper over the rain and rumbling thunder that emitted from the dark, blue-black sky. It was a Cybertronian storm, this particular categorized as of the most severe, and in usual cases such as these, Bumblebee would cuddle up between his mom and dad, letting them comfort him and kill every frightening crack of lightning that struck the air. Yes, whenever he was with them, everything terrifying and horrible just disappeared. But, he didn't have them anymore.

And that painfully wrenching fact was the one that made his little spark hurt until his chestplate stung. The only things spinning through his processor were death, agony, horror, fear…But, the youngling didn't know those words. He only knew that one of the bad people had killed his parents, the bad people had killed his brother, who was a mere youngling himself compared to the other Autobot veterans. Bumblebee couldn't let this go on, the mechling didn't want it to, nor would he allow it to.

_"Th-That's what I'll be when I grow up. I wanna be like th-them."_ That's what he had told his parents those few days ago.

Bumblebee felt the need to be a soldier in his spark. The bad people took his family away, and when the time was right, Bumblebee would have to make them pay. No one could expect to do such a crime and get away with it. At least not in this youngling's book.

He shut his optics even tighter, forcing more frightening thoughts out of his processor. He almost went as far as deleting them from his memory banks, deleting them so he wouldn't have to face the nightmare any longer. He wouldn't have to remember his parents' death, or his brother's. Deleting the memories…It was so simple, so easy. But, then again, it was his _past_. It would always be real, no matter how hard he chose to ignore it. That's all deleting was – Erasing something from your mind, scrubbing it away. But, it would always be there.

Though he was in recharge, he wasn't dreaming about anything. He'd forced his processor clear. He concentrated his audios on the falling rain, jolting when lightning crashed or thunder sounded. The mechling only hoped Primus had heard his little prayer; He knew he surely needed desperate help. Bumblebee couldn't fend for himself, being so young. Like the drone had said, he wouldn't last for a breem. He had made it through four, but, with his hungry tanks running on empty and his spark lonely, he wouldn't last another week. If food wouldn't be given, Bumblebee just wanted a spark near. One warm and comforting.

That was dire to any youngling.

**//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\**

**Another Breem Later…**

The loneliness Bumblebee couldn't handle any longer. He started sobbing, uncontrollably, blue optics wide and droopy on his tear streaked faceplate. He hadn't budged a bit from his curled up position, the sounds of the storm now frightening him to a point he had never felt before. The longing for help was overriding his systems, the desperation for hope.

And it quivered when the mechling heard footsteps.

He sat up instantly, his fit of sobs quieting instinctively to a collection of whimpers so whoever was approaching would not discover his location. Bumblebee heard no voices, but he did hear not one pair of footsteps, but _two_. Choking out a small cry of despair, Bumblebee tucked himself in a tight corner, little yellow knees pressing against his spark chamber. He could feel his own tiny heart beating furiously as the footsteps kept coming. He didn't want to die like his family, he knew he couldn't take that type of pain.

His head buried in his legs and he started shaking.

"P-Primus," the bot prayed again. "N-No…"

The footsteps stopped abruptly.

Too suddenly…altogether.

Bumblebee could feel optics on him, watching, scanning, but no words yet.

Shakily, slowly, the youngling lifted his head, strangled sobs hiccupping from his throat as he met the optics of a towering mech. Another stood by his side, but Bumblebee couldn't keep his optics off the gallant one before him, sleek blue armor decorated in red flames that swept elegantly against parts of his body, his entire form "muscular," incredibly well-built and designed. His faceplate was blue and silver, optics electric blue that sent shivers up the youngling's circuitry. A retractable battle mask pulled back to reveal metal lips, not formed into a frown or a smile, but a line as the tall transformer looked down at the shivering mechling, optic ridges angling.

The much shorter, silver mech at his side took a step forward, leaning down to get a better look at the frightened bot. Dark optics scanned and noticed the injuries the mechling's chest had, his processor realizing how much pain the little one could be in.

He pulled back. "Prime, s'a youngling," the mech said in a soft voice. He looked down at Bumblebee with sympathy in his optics. "…Here all by 'imself? That's not right…"

Optimus stepped before the mech, his optics warming to a deeper blue as he kneeled down to more of the youngling's level, the towering mech keeping his optics focused on the bot's.

"That is quite unusual…" he said quietly.

When Bumblebee whimpered, Optimus shook his head, a very faint smile curving his metal lips.

"Don't be afraid, little one," cooed the mech gently. He held out a palm to the bot, but Bumblebee only squirmed away. The mechling felt as if he couldn't trust anyone yet after what happened and Optimus certainly wasn't any ordinary transformer. His presence alone was overwhelming, let alone absolutely _terrifying_ in a bot's optics.

Optimus cupped his other hand around the mechling's body, easing the bot into his hand, being careful not to injure him any further or press too hard against wounds that were unseen to his optics, unaware to his processor. Despite Bumblebee's protesting wriggles and cries, Optimus sat the bot in his palm, then rose to his normal thirty plus feet, holding the mechling before his blue optics.

The silver mech sat his hands on his hips, giving the mechling a slightly skeptical stare. "Wha'do we do wit' 'im?" he asked, slitting his optics some. "Keep 'im?"

Optimus nodded slowly, watching as Bumblebee shivered in his hand. The mech, as war hardened as he may appear, used his thumb to gently stroke the mechling's body, calming his cries to mere twitters in his little throat. Optimus smiled.

"Yes, Jazz, we can't leave a youngling to fend for himself," he said in a voice that resonated in his chest wonderfully. "We'll have Ratchet examine his wounds…" He thumbed over the bot's spark chamber, carefully, feeling the broken and frayed wires that staccatoed stinging sparks into his little chest, causing him pain for sure. "His spark chamber is penetrated…"

Jazz leaned up. "Looks like someone snapped his wires," he said, furrowing his brow.

Optimus lowered the whirring bot to his chest with a single nod. "We'll have him repaired. He'll be good as new before we know it," he said quietly, running a finger over the top of the mechling's head. Bumblebee flinched, shaking as he looked up at Optimus. The gallant mech shook his head.

"Youngling, do not be afraid," he coaxed, patting the bot's cheekplate.

Bumblebee's antennae drooped, his body still quaking. He gulped.

Jazz took a step forward. "Kid, who did this to ya?"

Bumblebee only stared.

Jazz blinked, exchanging looks with Optimus. He took a step back. "Where're yer' parents?"

Again, Bumblebee said nothing. He only whirred.

"Yer' creators…?" Jazz was trying to make an effort in triggering the bot's memory, and make him talk.

But again, no response.

Optimus shook his head. "We best not debrief him now," he said. "He seems quite shaken." His hands moved around the mechling's small body, letting the bot lean against his burly chest. The youngling suddenly broke into a fit of sobs, crying out in shouts of despair as tiny yellow hands clung to blue metal, his optics shutting tight as energon tears spilled from them. His entire form shook, making Optimus shake his head yet again.

"D-Daddy…" he heard the mechling hiccup. "M-Mommy…S-Sparkfire…"

Optimus frowned. It was apparent the bot had lost someone, perhaps all three of those he sputtered. He dared not question Bumblebee now, knowing that it would only cause the mechling even more pain in his already wounded spark.

"P-Primus…" Bumblebee choked out.

His little cries wrenched the commander's own heart. He sighed.

"Whatever happened to you, youngling, will never come your way again," he coaxed softly. Bumblebee snuggled into Optimus' spark, aware that he was indeed a stranger. But, it was so inviting, warm, like both of his parents' merged into one _mightier_ one, thrumming strong, assuring. The mechling opened his optics, lifting their innocence to Prime. He smiled down at him and stroked the bot's head.

"Never again, youngling, will this happen to you…"

A tiny smile curved Bumblebee's mouth. Prime felt his spark flutter.

"I promise."


	6. Chapter VI: I Love You

Woo! Alright, it's finally finished. xD I had fun writing this chapter and before I could post it last night, my mom made me go to bed. But, hey! It's here now, so have fun reading it all of my wonderful viewers. x3

A little note: Words in italics indicate what Bumblebee hears before he's awake.

Just so you're not too confused! x3

* * *

**Chapter Six – I Love You **

Bumblebee fluttered open his optics with a groggy whirr from his throat, disarrayed as he found himself in an unfamiliar room. He was in a _room_, not outside in the storm.

"Wh-Wha…?" he murmured.

The bot sat his own little form upright, wide optics scanning as he uttered nervous whimpers. He tried to turn around, but a hand clamped over his stomach and legs, another gently pressing down against his chest. Bumblebee had no choice, but to lie down, glimmering optics looking up at the mech above him.

It wasn't the mech who had found him, it wasn't Optimus or Jazz. This mech was his color, he noticed, yellow with some flares of red on his armored form, blue optics like his own, and a serious faceplate.

Bumblebee blinked as the mech opened his tiny chest compartment, large fingers delicately prodding at the sensitive circuits of damaged wires fixed around the bot's tiny, beating blue heart. The youngling cried out, trying to wriggle from underneath the mech's massive hand. It only pressed down harder on the bot.

"Hold still…" The mech told him, trying his best to reassemble the bot's wires. A hot spark jumped in the mechling's spark chamber, popping and stinging him sharply.

Bumblebee's vision blurred with tears as he felt a jolt of pain suddenly stab his chest, causing his spark to beat quicker. He shivered and continued to squirm helplessly, emitting tiny groans and grunts as he struggled. Air intake vents hiccupping his breaths as he started to sob, Bumblebee shut his optics and cried as loud as his voice would allow him, hoping Optimus would come through the door and help him.

"Youngling, _settle_," came a firm voice, but easy in a tone that wouldn't frighten the bot.

Bumblebee screamed. He couldn't trust a stranger, not after what happened. He wouldn't risk anything, no way. He cried his loudest, optics shut tightly.

"Shhh, calm down…"

No, Bumblebee would not settle. Not until Optimus came.

The mech sighed and pulled away from Bumblebee.

It was silent for many astroseconds.

Bumblebee's optics opened just at the right time to see a tiny mask fall over his mouth. The mechling gasped, intaking much of gas that the device rushed into his vents. Bumblebee wriggled, shutting his optics as he could do nothing, but breathe it all in; Whatever the gas was, it blurred his vision, made everything spin and black away. His vents stung as the gas entered, and he held his breath, but he couldn't for long with all the sobs that broke through.

He didn't _want_ to settle, but whatever the substance was, it _made_ him.

His little youngling body was no match against it. It couldn't fight it off.

In a few astroseconds, Bumblebee's world was a blurry mess. The hand returned over his chest and stomach, keeping him down. Bumblebee's squirms were mere twitches as his little limbs sprawled out, his head falling to a side. The mechling fell into recharge, the last feeling being large fingers prodding at his spark chamber's wires, twisting them gently, fondling, and repairing.

**//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\**

**Eight Breems Later…**

_"Is the youngling doing well?"_

_"His repairs are all complete. I'm bringing him fully online now." _

The mech lifted the mask from the youngling's mouth. He listened as Bumblebee's vents worked slowly and his internal systems shifted to a higher capacity, though keeping him in a light recharging stage. Bumblebee whirred, his head turning to the opposite side.

_"There we go…He should be awake soon."_

A sigh. _"Wonderful…His spark wasn't injured at all, was it?"_

_"Not at all. Just a few of the wires surrounding its chamber needed to be repaired. Nothing more than a simple operation."_

Bumblebee's systems shifted from recharge, revving quietly inside his little body whilst wide optics revealed themselves from behind their lids. The youngling looked around. The yellow and red mech was still standing above him, and other mightier form towered behind him. Bumblebee recognized him, those wonderfully warm optics that glowered at him gently.

Bumblebee smiled at Optimus, watching as the mech's metal lips curved into a smile in return. The other yellow mech stepped forward, patting the bot's spark chamber with his palm.

"Wakin' up, huh?" he whispered, smiling.

Bumblebee blinked at him, then nodded slowly.

The mech nodded back, then patted Bumblebee's stomach. He turned. "I'll go get him some energon. He's probably hungry," he said to Optimus, giving the bot a final smile before he departed from the room, calling behind him, "I'll be back."

Optimus nodded. A worry flashed in his processor. He hoped the mechling wasn't too hungry, or had been deprived of energon for too long of a time. Younglings definitely needed their nutrition.

Killing the concern, he sighed, "Hurry back, Ratchet."

He moved toward the berth that Bumblebee laid on, the entire thing being greatly oversized to such a small youngling. The mech sat himself on the edge, watching with a look of surprise on his faceplate as Bumblebee's little form scrambled itself up, then tottered over to him. Tiny arms barely could hug Optimus' side whilst a small head buried against it, a happy twitter following.

"Mmmm…" Bumblebee hummed happily. "You're back."

The mech's widened optics watched in almost awe. Optimus didn't expect Bumblebee to do this already. The youngling felt attached to him? _That_ made his spark swell.

Optimus gingerly cupped his hand around Bumblebee's body, looking deeply into wide, innocent blue optics that stared back at him, a smile in them. He smiled the biggest he could muster, thumbing lightly over the small, yellow head. Bumblebee tilted it to a side slowly, letting Optimus run his finger down the tiny neck and shoulder, feeling the bot purr happily. Optimus grinned.

"What is your name, little one?" he asked, touching across Bumblebee's arm.

The mechling smiled. "Bumblebee," his little voice said proudly. "What's your name?"

The bot's voice alone was so innocent, so curious…And, Optimus had to admit, too fraggin' _cute_. He confessed that Bumblebee was _adorable_, perhaps the most precious thing he had ever seen in the time of the war.

He eased Bumblebee into his lap, pulling himself onto the berth. "My name is Optimus Prime," he told the bot, holding him in both of his hands. "I am the commander of the Autobots."

Bumblebee's optics flashed at the last word, a gasp leaving his mouth. A tiny yellow finger pointed to the red Autobot insignia fixed on his forehead, and he bounced in Optimus' hands with a smile.

"Autobot!" he chirped. "Me!"

Optimus laughed at the little bot's charm, patting his head as he nodded. "Yes, yes, that's right, Bumblebee," he said with a wide smile. "You are an Autobot."

Bumblebee giggled, then held out a tiny hand to Optimus. "It's nice to meet you," he grinned, optics upturning. "…Commander."

Optimus looked to the mechling's little hand, watching it for only a couple astroseconds before he slowly eased a single finger toward it. Bumblebee firmly gripped the mech's massive finger, giggling softly as Optimus shook his hand.

What manners the little bot had.

"And it's nice to meet you too, Bumblebee," Prime said in reply.

Bumblebee grinned.

Optimus watched the little fingers uncurl before he eased the bot against his stomach plating, watching as Bumblebee snuggled himself into him. Optimus held the tiny frame ever so gingerly, gladly thumbing over the youngling's pair of wings.

Bumblebee's form twitched and his hands dug into Optimus as he felt Optimus' fingers run across his wings. They were highly sensitive, prone to the lightest of touches. He giggled, wide optics looking up at Prime.

Optimus' drooped warmly as they gazed back, the mech chuckling in a rich sound that reverberated in his chest, rattling the tiny form in his hands gently. Bumblebee giggled in almost a squeal as Prime's laugh shook him, then hugged Optimus' stomach plating as tight as he could manage, his little head buried into the metal.

Optimus patted the bot's back with one hand, freely stroking the yellow chest panels with the fingers of the other. Bumblebee snuggled in his lap, moving along in perfect time whenever the mech's wandering fingers came upon his neck and sides, giggling when they brushed over his stomach. Bumblebee purred in a soft, "_Rrrrr_," against Prime, vibrating him only slightly.

Ratchet returned to the room a few astroseconds later, carrying a medium sized cube of energon in one of his hands. The medic moved to one side of the berth, handing Optimus the cube.

"Sorry, that _did_ take too long," he sighed, stepping away to move to his desk. "Ironhide…Always has somethin' to say to me."

Optimus grinned, giving the officer an understanding nod. He looked down at Bumblebee. "Hungry, aren't you little one?" he asked softly.

Bumblebee nodded, optics still on Prime's. "I am."

Ratchet sat behind his desk, watching the mechling in Optimus' lap with scanning optics. He watched the smiles he threw at the mech, and laughed.

"He's rather attached to you isn't he, Prime?" he chuckled, standing from his desk as he decided to leave his work for later. A little procrastination wouldn't hurt, would it? Especially if he wanted to see a youngling for the first time in what felt like _eons_.

Optimus nodded slowly as he cupped his hand around the mechling's bottom, grinning as Bumblebee giggled softly and leaned back against the mech's supporting forearm. Optimus lifted the cube of energon to the bot's mouth, watching as Bumblebee drank the liquid happily, tiny gulps sounding from the bot's throat as the energon was slurped down. Optimus' optics locked on the droopy pair of the mechling's, and he slowly let go of the cube as Bumblebee's tiny hands lifted to hold it themselves. Optimus rubbed circles into Bumblebee's tanks, making the bot giggle.

"He's truly precious," he murmured to really no one in particular, looking over the bot with an amorous blue in his optics. "Thank Primus Jazz and I found him."

Ratchet nodded, setting his hands on the berth as he leaned forward to look at Bumblebee. "I'll say," he said with a nod. "And in that _storm_ too. The poor bot would've been terrified."

Bumblebee lowered the cube from his mouth, only a very small amount left at the bottom. The mechling yawned and extended his tiny legs, a pale blue liquid moustache fixed around the top of his mouth. The mechs laughter made his optics flash.

"C'mon, Bumblebee," Optimus said playfully. "You can finish that, can't you?"

Ratchet smiled. "Bumblebee, eh?" He gave the bot's head a gentle noggie. "He certainly does look like the Earth creature…With his coloring and all."

Optimus nodded. "He certainly does."

Bumblebee leaned his head back and downed the rest of the liquid, again lowering the cube, this time, onto the berth with a _clank_. He made a soft groan and giggled, yawning again as he stretched his limbs.

Ratchet grinned. "All done?" He took the cube in his hand.

Bumblebee nodded.

"Atta boy," the medic said. "I'll go discard this." He departed again from the room.

Optimus nodded, then rubbed the bot's now round, full tummy, feeling Bumblebee break into a spasm of laughs. The bot suddenly stopped and hiccupped, doing it over and over in tiny chirps. His frame twitched with each one, optics wide and innocent as they stared at Prime.

Optimus laughed and raised Bumblebee to his shoulder, patting the space between his yellow wings. Bumblebee finally burped, the sound in Optimus' audio receptor making him grin as a flutter warmed his spark.

"All better?" he whispered, faceplate turning to Bumblebee's.

The mechling nodded with a drunken smile, his tiny head falling against Optimus' shoulder. Optics lids droopy, Bumblebee purred, subconsciously running a tiny hand along Optimus' jaw and cheekplate in curiosity, tiny fingers brushing oh so lightly. The mechling felt the faceplate panels by Optimus' mouth shift as his metal lips curved upright into a smile, and he giggled at the feeling. Optimus tucked the bot by the crook of his head, swaying him back and forth.

"Shhh, recharge," he told him quietly. "I know you're tired, aren't you?"

Bumblebee nodded barely, his optics already closed. The massive fingers that stroked his entire form had him falling deeper and deeper into a dream, deeper into a peaceful recharge. He whirred, a smile refusing to leave his faceplate.

"M-Mmm…" he hummed.

"Shhh…"

Bumblebee yawned. "You'll be here tomorrow?" his tiny voice asked.

Optimus nodded with a smile. "Why wouldn't I be, youngling?"

The bot shrugged. "I 'unno…"

"I'll always be here for you," came the whisper in reply. "Every time you open those little optics of yours." Optimus couldn't resist, but kiss Bumblebee's cheekplate softly. "You understand me?"

Bumblebee nodded in a giggle. "Yeah," he breathed. "I do…"

It was silent for many astroseconds as Optimus let the youngling rest. But, then, his little voice came again…

"…O-O…O-Optimus?" He struggled to remember his name.

"Hmm?" came the lazy reply.

"Lavesho'aii arderyi…"

Optimus' optics widened. Bumblebee…He had just spoken the language of their people. He used it rarely since his learning and understanding of English, the humans' language, and whenever it was spoken, he felt as if alarms rung off in his processor. But, Bumblebee's three simple words, Optimus remembered them best out of any phrase in Cybertronian.

Lavesho'aii arderyi.

In English, it meant…

"I love you."

Optimus sighed with his optics drooped in utter devotion for the mechling, and he turned his faceplate to Bumblebee's. The youngling's optics were already wide and focused on his, and Bumblebee leaned up to plant a soft kiss against his cheekplate, giggling.

"Lavesho'aii arderyi, Optimus…" he said again, grinning.

The way the youngling pronounced it, so fluid as the Cybertronian words just rolled smoothly from his little mouth, perfect with each tiny trill and roll of the "r."

Optimus smiled widely, then held the mechling against him in the greatest love he had ever felt pour out from his spark. He _did_ love Bumblebee. The youngling was certainly a little blessing from Primus himself.

Optimus kissed Bumblebee's cheekplate again before he whispered back, "Lavesho'aii arderyi, Bumblebee."

* * *

Yes, the Cybertronian in this was something I decided to just make up. It took me kind of a while, xD and I think it's kinda iffy er whatever, but oh well. Tell me what you think of my little idear. x3 Thanks for reading, and don't forget to reviewwwww please. 


	7. Chapter VII: A Promise is Set

Phew, this chapter took me way too long. Lol. Well, at least it's here, huh? I didn't want to have to make all of you readers wait until tomorrow. xD I know, I'm so nice, aren't I? Well, I did actually want to add to this chapter, but it was already pretty lengthy enough to me. There'll be enough comin' up I'm sure.

Have a read! Enjoy. x3

* * *

**Chapter Seven – A Promise is Set**

When Bumblebee opened his optics again, Optimus wasn't with him and he noticed this automatically. The mechling's head sprang up from the cool berth it had been laying on, his droopy, still-awakening optics scoping and scanning around frantically for any sign of the towering mech he was so fond of.

"Optimus?" he whispered.

No response.

Noticing that the door of the quarters had been left cracked open, Bumblebee's optics widened and he twittered happily, sitting his own little frame up before he scooted to the edge of the berth. He looked down and shivered at the height from the berth to the ground, gulping down a huge lump in his throat. A tiny hum of nervousness shook from the mechling's modulators as he turned his optics to the door, then the floor, the door, the floor, back and forth again.

Was he going to _jump_ off the berth? Or _wait_ for Optimus' return.

He finally focused on the floor alone, purring in determination as he hopped up onto his tiny feet.

He couldn't wait. He wanted to see his loving mech _now_.

Bumblebee clamped little fists at his sides, then hopped from the berth, anticipating what the near astroseconds would feel like. He shut his optics until his feet hit the floor – But, they didn't. He slipped back and fell on his aft with a grunt, opening his optics to find himself below the berth.

Tears instinctively stung his optics, a small sob starting to hiccup its way through his voice modulators as he stood. Whimpering at his painful fall, Bumblebee tottered his little form to the door, shuffling past it with droopy, tear-glimmering optics.

"Optimus?" he called again.

And again, nothingness was his answer. Silence.

Bumblebee wandered aimlessly down the hall, his tiny, lonely footsteps barely echoing through it massiveness. He turned and walked backwards, shuffling as his optics continued to look frantically for Optimus.

He whimpered, stumbling backwards, but keeping his walking speed. "Optimusss," he whined. "Wh-Where - "

Suddenly, Bumblebee crashed into something, or was it _someone_.

He fell back on his aft again with a grunt, blinking off his sudden confusion. He leaned his head back slowly and turned wide optics at a mech looming over him, at the hefty mech dubbed the weapons specialist, designation Ironhide. Piercing blue optics stared into the youngling's and Bumblebee scrambled to his feet in fright.

"Ahhh!" the mechling screamed, running as fast as his little legs would let him. Giant hands wrapped around his tiny body and pulled him from the ground, the mech ignoring the little feet that kicked back and forth.

"Lemme go! Lemme go!!" he demanded, trying to pry loose.

Ironhide grunted. "Calm down. I ain't gonna hurt ya."

Bumblebee screamed again at the stranger, but his mouth was covered soon. Unblinkingly optics stared into the piercing blue, and his screams were tiny whimpers in his throat. Bumblebee's optics looked over the massive cannons that sat on the mech's shoulders, each one seeming to be aimed at him. He gulped, feeling Ironhide's hands tighten slowly around his body.

"When did you get here…?" Ironhide muttered, looking over the mechling skeptically. "A youngling?"

Bumblebee shivered. "Wh-Where's Optimus?" he asked, frightened.

Ironhide furrowed his brow. "How'd you get 'ere, kid?"

Bumblebee gulped. "Optimus brought me here," he stuttered. "Can you bring me to him?"

Footsteps sounded from behind Ironhide, and Bumblebee didn't see anyone appear until many astroseconds later. A shorter, silver mech stood next to Ironhide, an optic ridge arched as he looked to Bumblebee in the mech's hands.

"'Hide, what're ya doin' to the poor bot?" he grinned. "Yer' scarin' 'im."

"Frag off, Jazz, I am _not_," snapped the weapons specialist, shooting Jazz a cold glare.

Bumblebee trembled in his hands, completely betraying his last comment. Ironhide slowly looked to the mechling, forcing himself to resist the urge to slap Jazz upside the head when the mech started laughing.

"He's a _youngling_," he sighed. "What do you expect?"

"Can you take me to Op-Optimus?" Bumblebee murmured below the arguing mechs.

"All I know is he wasn' scared of Optimus er me when _we_ found 'im," Jazz laughed, not hearing the bot's tiny plea. "And he wasn' scared of Ratchet either, 'n for some reason, all of the younglings we've ever met 'er scared of _you_."

"Will you _mute it_?!"

"Excuse me!" Bumblebee yelled, watching as both of the mechs looked at him.

Jazz blinked. "What is it, little guy?"

"Can you take me to Optimus?" he asked for the millionth time, shivering as the fact of two pairs of optics staring at him made his tiny form sulk. "I-I wanna see him…"

Ironhide and Jazz exchanged glances.

"Kid, I don't think now is the best time for that," the weapons specialist said in slight unease. "He's prolly busy workin'…"

"You could see 'im later, right?" Jazz asked, watching the mechling's tear-glazed optics turn to him. He made a face. "…You could."

"…B-But, I wanna see him now," Bumblebee demanded shakily. "Pl-Please?" His wide optics drooped oh so innocently, his little faceplate scrunched up in a way that Jazz could not take into spark any longer, it was simply too cute and too wrenching. Jazz shook his head with a groan, looking away.

"Primus, not the face," he sighed. "Ironhide, you talk to 'im. I can't look at 'im."

Ironhide shook his head. "You're such a disgrace," he muttered.

A whimper from the youngling's throat made Jazz slowly turn around and smile, shaking his head. "'Hide, just take him to Optimus," he said in surrender, looking to the mech beside him. "Really, I mean, if Optimus'll have to make time for 'im with _that_ faceplate."

Bumblebee twittered and giggled.

Ironhide scoffed, giving Bumblebee a skeptical optic. The mechling only grinned sneakily.

"Yeah," the older mech grunted. "He'll _have_ to…Sneaky lil' bot."

Bumblebee giggled again and squealed. As Ironhide set him on his shoulder, Bumblebee wriggling his tiny form against the mech's cheekplate and leaned on it. Ironhide forced out the warmest smile he could, reaching up to wiggle his fingers against the little body on his shoulder.

**//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\**

Ironhide lowered the youngling from his shoulder, setting him on the ground before his massive hand gave Bumblebee a tiny push between his door wings. Bumblebee turned his head to look last look at the weapons specialist and Jazz at his side, a whirr rattling from his throat.

Jazz crossed his arms and twisted his lip. "'Hide, I don't think this is right."

Bumblebee's form tottered over to the door of Optimus' quarters, then bounced to his knees. Bumblebee giggled as he wriggled his form through the space below the door, grunting and whirring as he tried to fit through, slowly making progress. Ironhide grinned.

"What do you mean?" he chuckled lightly.

Jazz gave him a look. "Look at 'im, 'Hide," he said. "We're makin' a youngling _squeeze_ under a door when knocking is completely an available option."

Ironhide shrugged with a grunt. "The kid sure seems fine with it."

Bumblebee giggled and squealed, his tiny form almost all the way through. He grunted.

"And, besides," the older mech put gruffly. "This way, we won't disturb Optimus at all from his work, will we?" His optics shifted slyly to Jazz's. The second lieutenant raised his optic ridges with a quirky smile.

"Ohh, I see where yer' goin' here," he laughed. "Good call."

Ironhide grinned. "Thank you."

Bumblebee's form finally pulled through, popping out the other end as he grunted a last time.

Optimus, standing in the center of his quarters, looked and turned away from the many monitors surrounding him, a wide smile slowly making its way across his faceplate. Chuckling at the yellow bot that laid flat on his stomach, Optimus grinned as he moved over to Bumblebee, watching as tiny hands lifted to him. He didn't hesitate to lean down and take the mechling in his hands, soon lifting him high up into the air above his shoulders and faceplate.

"Ohh, Bumblebee," the mech laughed. "Silly little youngling…"

The giggles and happy gurgles the bot emitted only made Optimus' spark flutter greatly inside its massive chamber. Bumblebee smiled as Optimus tucked him against the crook of his neck, then moved to the center of the room where he last stood. The gentle sways of Optimus' large strides made Bumblebee purr lowly in his throat, his optics falling shut.

Fingers moved along and between his door wings, and he fluttered them in and out slowly in time with the gesture. Optimus made a low, soothing sound in his throat, and Bumblebee instinctively leaned his head against where the sound came from, giggling quietly.

"Bumblebee, how did you know where my quarters were?" Optimus said softly.

The youngling opened his optics. "Somebody showed me," he said with a playful edge.

Optimus' brow furrowed, his optic fixed on the monitors around him. "Who were they, little one?"

"I 'unno," Bumblebee put simply.

The commander mused for a moment. "…Tell me the color of their armor," he told the mechling. His deep blue optics turned to Bumblebee's wide baby blue pair, and he smiled. "Could you do that for me?"

Bumblebee made a face, scrunching the facets of his faceplate. "Umm…" his optics shut as he thought. He whirred. "…S-Silver and…" He opened his optics and looked at the floor. He couldn't place his processor on a color to describe Ironhide.

Optimus smiled, petting the youngling's back between his wings. "Think…Take your time. You've got this."

Bumblebee whirred with a smile. "Ummm…" He perked up and held up a single yellow finger. "Oh! The other was steel!" He grinned at the mech.

Optimus chuckled. "Jazz and Ironhide, sounds like them," he said softly. "They were good to you weren't they, little one?"

Bumblebee nodded. "Uh huh."

The commander nodded and hoisted the bot higher on his shoulder with a gentle push against his little bottom. Bumblebee giggled.

"Any reason you wanted to see me?" Optimus rumbled warmly.

Bumblebee tucked his head against Optimus' neck. "N-No," he giggled. "I just wanted to see you." He purred and hugged the side of Optimus' faceplate. "I missed you…"

The commander grinned. "I admit, I did miss you too little youngling," he sighed, starting to pace slowly to his desk. He sat, and held the bot more secure against his shoulder, swaying gently to and fro. "A breem alone without your bright little character is utter agony to me."

Bumblebee smiled. "I can't last half of one without you," he laughed.

Optimus chuckled and closed his optics for a moment. "Bumblebee…"

"Hmm?"

"You will make a fine soldier one day," he told him. "An excellent addition to my army."

Bumblebee's smile disappeared, and he looked away too quickly. Optimus' optics shot to the youngling's, but all they saw were their lids and the beginnings of tears seeping underneath. The mech's brow furrowed, optic ridges slanting.

"Little one," he cooed. "Little one, look at me."

He hoped he hadn't offended the bot in any way.

Bumblebee shook his head, tucking his head into Optimus shoulder as the memories of his parents' death suddenly flooded his processor, the thoughts of wanting to be a soldier to pay for what the Decepticons did to his brother, his entire family. The longing, the soldier's calling in his spark did not upset him. It was the fact that even if he did fight for who he lost some day in his life, he would never and could never gain them back.

The harsh reality of it all.

When Bumblebee shook his head at his words, Optimus frown deepened. He chose to save it, lowering the bot to nestle him against his spark. He revved his systems only enough to increase the might in the thrums of his heart, watching as a shivering Bumblebee cuddled against its power, his cries softening. Optimus nodded slowly as he stroked the youngling's tiny frame.

"Shhh, that's right, that's right," he coaxed as wide, innocent optics opened up to him. "Clear your processor, little one. Don't cry anymore."

Bumblebee buried his head into the mech's chest, snuggling. Optimus' spark wrenched inside him. Whatever had the youngling's so hurt would soon be from his processor. He didn't want the mechling to be in any sort of pain, in shape, way or form of it. Bumblebee deserved nothing more than utter care, attention, education, role models, and most especially, _love_.

And Optimus was willing to take every ounce of the devotion harvested within him, and pour it out onto Bumblebee until his little spark was scarred no more.

"Whatever is making you cry," Optimus sighed. "Will not do so any longer within an Earth week's time, youngling."

Bumblebee slowly looked up. He sniffled. "Y-You promise?"

Optimus nodded and smiled at the little one. "I promise."


	8. Chapter VIII: The Kidnap is Schemed

Weee, here it is. Chapter Eight: ) Didn't mean to keep you all waiting two whole days. xD I was too busy yesterday to get enough of the chapter done and y'know how school interferes. x3 But, without further ado, I did it, and I had fun with this chapter. : D I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did. I was gunna add moreeee, but meh. I can wait I'm sure. x3

Okay, enough of me. Read and reviewww. : )

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**Chapter Eight – The Kidnap is Schemed **

**At the Sight of the Attack on Bumblebee's District **

The entire district was but heaps of steaming metal and fires that slowly began to die down, flames crackling whilst licking up whatever was in their pathways. Autobot corpses lied on top of one another, limp, lifeless, some of their optics still open and flickering. Sparks beat their last with withering thrums, supporting life no more to the body it had once belonged too.

Death hung in the air like a stench.

The sight was truly horrendous, with the light rain and thundering blue black sky that made everything even more like a nightmare gone to reality. The storm refused to cease, thundering and striking lightning throughout the dark clouds. No Autobot could have survived such an unexpected attack.

It was horror to them all, but to _some_, it was sweet, glorious victory.

And those some included a mech of eighteen feet with red optics that could truly pierce any Autobot's spark like an energon blade, and faceplate as cold and hard as his war-edged spark.

Designation: Barricade.

The mech clicked the tips of his claws in satisfaction, letting an evil smirk move across his faceplate. He paced around slowly and admired the work that had been done, watching as the drones finished their tasks. They checked to make sure every corpse was actually dead, and that no spark was left beating. Drones fired at the bodies and moved along, disappearing over the hillsides to return to their bases.

Everything had fallen according to plan.

Barricade grinned wider.

"The orders here have been fulfilled," he said softly to himself, chuckling deeply. "Everything is _exactly_ how Lord Megatron wished."

From behind him, a jet engine roared, growing louder and louder with each astrosecond. Barricade turned to see the metal taloned feet of Starscream dig into the dirt ground with a massive thud, the Decepticon's red optics slowly turning to his as he straightened himself to his normal thirty one feet stature. He hissed.

"My orders have been completed," he told Barricade in his raspy voice, grinning. "Another district terminated with a matter of breems." Another snickering hiss escaped his modulators.

Barricade nodded, turning his optics to the sky as thunder clapped. "Lord Megatron will reward us _greatly_," he mused with a smile. "Two districts in a matter of breems…"

"Yes, a record indeed. Our reward shall be _exceptional_," the jet grinned.

Barricade's optics fell to the mud floor as he continued his pace, arms crossed across his steel colored chest. He ambled over to the faint yellow and black corpse of a femme, her blue optics still flickering up at the sky. Energon trickled from the open wound in her spark chamber, onto the mud below her, creating a murky puddle. Barricade eased his foot into her side, watching as she limply lied there.

She didn't react the slightest.

Starscream stepped over, his form towering over the scout's. "A femme…" he grunted, scarlet optics scanning. "I find it rare to see them on Cybertron anymore."

Barricade nodded slowly. "Yes, and even more unusual," he started, looking over the body. "…there was a youngling with her. I believe the two were sparkling and femme…Creator and Creation."

Starscream raised an optic ridge. "That _is_ rare," he said quietly. "The femme is dead…What did you do with the youngling?" He grinned. "I hope you saved it as a _pet_." His eager claws flexed.

The scout didn't answer for a few astroseconds. He sighed. "I _killed_ the femme. I didn't savage the youngling for our pet, Starscream," he told the fighter jet. "I left him to himself."

Starscream growled, optics flaring. "You _what_?"

"Starscream, why should I have wasted my own time killing a _youngling_?" he asked, sighing. "To do such a thing would have no purpose."

Starscream grunted. "We need to find that youngling to be a pet for our Lord," he said lowly. "Megatron would only be pleased."

The Decepticon's optics trailed to the muddy ground, scanning for any sign of tiny footsteps. The mech paused when coming upon footsteps a little _larger_ than his, leading away from the battle grounds. They led away in a direction that no Decepticon bases were situated, and this rung alarms in Starscream's processor. If they led in a direction where no Decepticon bases were located, they _had_ to be Autobot's, leading to _their_ base.

The Decepticon grinned and began following the footsteps. "Excellent," he purred.

Barricade raised an optic ridge. "And just where are you going off to?"

"Following these footprints, you _imprudent scout_," the mech hissed with a smile, optics flashing. "They could lead to an Autobot base." His modulators crackled in thrill.

Barricade furrowed his brow. "We should search like _this_?" he asked, stepping to Starscream's side. "We're too exposed. Any Autobot squad could discover two prowling Decepticons."

Starscream made a sound of indifference. "Any Autobot team is no match for us," he said firmly. "I believe we just destroyed two districts within breems. What good is a single team?"

"We _did_ destroy the districts, but with the help of drones given to us by our Lord."

Starscream sighed. "The drones are nothing, but metal and circuitry, robots programmed to do what they are ordered under all circumstances. Ours cannot disobey our Lord, and they are certainly not worthy soldiers such as us."

Barricade frowned. Sure, the drones were programmed and not particularly _strong_ like them, but…Slag it. He rested his case and followed alongside Starscream with scanning optics.

"I only hope your decision is wise," he sighed. "…Possibly to earn ourselves an even _greater_ reward."

"Scout, I know perfectly well that these tracks lead to _somewhere_," Starscream shot back. "Their size is greater than mine and probably as large as Megatron's himself. You can only imagine who this could be…"

Barricade's optics gleamed evilly and he snickered. "The Autobot commander himself…" he grinned.

Starscream nodded. "Yes, yes, exactly." He pointed a claw at the scout at his side, then the massive footprint on the ground. "Report to Megatron and tell him of our discovery, and what we plan to do." He smiled. "Tell him Optimus Prime will soon be in our optic ranges."

Barricade didn't hesitate to click on a private communication channel to his Lord, his cold spark thrumming in excitement as the near future became a major anticipation to him. "Yes, Starscream," he said. "I can hardly wait…"

**/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\**

**At the Autobot Base**

Jazz's optics gleamed into the wonderfully blue ones of the bot in his hands, watching as Bumblebee grinned from receptor to receptor. He lifted a single claw to the mechling's head, stroking the yellow metal between his drooping antennae. Bumblebee purred happily and nestled his cheekplate against Jazz's.

"Rrrrrr…" the bot purred, giggling.

Jazz laughed and pulled the bot away to throw him up into the air, grinning widely as his audios caught the wonderful squeals and giggles Bumblebee shouted in his smiles. He tossed Bumblebee again and again, catching him gingerly every time.

"How ya likin' that, Bee?" he grinned.

"Jazz, higher!!" Bumblebee giggled, little yellow hands reaching into the air.

Jazz chuckled and couldn't refuse the younglings' demand, throwing Bumblebee high until he barely grazed the ceiling. The mechling squealed with his head back, purring excitedly once his little form plopped safely into Jazz's secure hands. He couldn't stop giggling, his form shaking.

Jazz laughed with him. "You're silly, kid," he said with gleaming optics, roughly russlting his palm on top of Bumblebee's yellow head. Bumblebee closed his optics and smiled, purring.

"Am I?" his tiny voice giggled.

"Uh huh," the mech answered casually. "Very."

"Rrrrrr…"

Ratchet walked from one end of the hall, pointlessly examining one of his hands as he passed the two. His deep blue optics lifted as Jazz tossed the bot into the air again, ridges arching.

"Jazz, don't do that," he sighed, gently heeding. "That's _dangerous_, you know that."

The silver mech scoffed, catching Bumblebee gingerly in his claws again. "Oh, mute it," he laughed, bringing the gurgling bot against his chest. "I wasn' gonna drop 'im."

Ratchet mumbled under his breath, shaking his head before he disappeared into his quarters. Jazz shrugged and looked down into wide, baby blue optics that were staring up at him, smiling as his claws stroked Bumblebee's head slowly.

"Whatcha wanna do, little guy?" he asked in a light chuckle, slowly circling the tip of one silver claw around one yellow antenna. "Huh?"

Bumblebee opened his little mouth to say something, but his words were cut short when a shiver snaked down his spine, the high sensitivity of the wires in his antenna making his frame shiver. He giggled and shut his optic, burying his little head into Jazz's spark as if to kill the shivers that quaked his system. He purred, letting Jazz's hand cup around his body and ease him against a warm spark.

"Mmm," he hummed, opening his optics to Jazz's. "Where's Optimus?"

Jazz laughed and turned on his heel, walking slowly down the hall. "Bee, yer' always missin' him, y'know that?" he grinned, giving Bumblebee a friendly smack on the back of his head.

Bumblebee smiled. "I love him," he said softly. "A-And I wanna talk to him."

Jazz nodded. "I know, I know. C'mon." He hoisted Bumblebee onto his shoulder, letting the bot tuck his tiny head in the crook of his neck. His purring rattled his neck's wires and tickled him to the point of grinning from receptor to receptor. "Let's get you to him, huh?"

"M'hmm…"

"And he's already here," rumbled a gentle voice from behind them.

Jazz turned with his optics widened, a ridge arching slowly once he met his commander's gaze. The second lieutenant stumbled backwards at the gallant mech's sudden appearance, slowly moving Bumblebee from his shoulder to his arms.

"H-Hey, when'dja get there?" he said nervously, drawing Bumblebee against his chest. "I didn't see ya."

Optimus gave a small smile. "Yes, well, I had been looking for the youngling myself," he said, optics dropping to Bumblebee's wide pair. His smile dropped. "I would like to speak to him as well." His optics narrowed. "To clarify a few things…"

Bumblebee whirred and sat himself upright, remaining against Jazz's spark. He looked from the second lieutenant to Optimus with confused optics, innocence all over his faceplate. He blinked at the towering mech at last.

"D-Did I do something wrong?" he stuttered in a small voice. "I-I'm sorry."

Optimus shook his head with a smile. "No, youngling, you did nothing wrong," he sighed in a chuckle, reaching over to take Bumblebee in his hands. "Now, come along. Say goodbye to Jazz now."

Bumblebee chirped as Optimus bounced him up against his shoulder, then turned his little body to wave a tiny yellow hand at the silver mech.

"Bye bye, Jazz," he frowned apologetically. "M-M'sorry."

Jazz smiled, throwing a wave as he set down for the opposite end. "Nahhh, don't worry about it," he said casually. He grinned. "Seeya, kid."

**/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\**

**Outside the Autobot Base**

Starscream came to a slow halt as the footsteps ended at a downward sloping hill, then continued a massive stride ahead, heading toward what looked like a giant collection of tall trees. The Decepticon narrowed his optics and zoomed, zeroing in at the space between the trees. He noticed something metal hidden in them, the top of whatever it was peeking over the tops of the trees, and an evil smile curved his metal lips. Starscream hissed excitedly as the scout stepped at his side.

He knew _exactly_ what that was.

"What do you see?" asked Barricade, slitting his own optics.

Starscream laughed. "The Autobot base!" he grinned, clicking his claws together. "We've located it, Barricade. We've found it!" He turned and gave a face. "I told you."

Barricade's optics widened as he, too, noticed the well-hidden, Autobot base. He grinned slowly, optics flaring excitedly as his spark skipped in its chamber.

"Optimus Prime is within our grasp!" he chuckled. His optics shot to the jet. "We must alert the drones, contact them, and lead them toward this base. A fleet of drones could easily wipe out such a puny squad."

Starscream cackled at the thought of success, at the thoughts of reward and promotion! His optics continued scanning greedily, looking for any trace of a possible Autobot. "First of all…" He straightened up and pointed a single claw before him.

"The base as windows," he said, lowering his hand. "Have Frenzy look through them, _cautiously_, and report back with everything he scans."

Barricade nodded and let a panel of his steel colored chest plate slide aside, allowing the smaller mech harvested within it to pop out and land on his feet. Frenzy talked furiously fast to no one in particular, pacing around eagerly before stiffening when Starscream pointed ahead.

"The base, Frenzy," the towering mech ordered. "Look through its windows, then report back once you have visuals on any of the _Autobots_." He growled the last word as if it were a curse.

Frenzy muttered to himself in Cybertronian as he marched down the hill on cautious toes, his many blue optics scanning on high alert. Barricade's own widened and he stepped forward, an alarm ringing in his CPU.

"The sensors, watch out for them!" he called at the mech. "_Do not_ trigger the alarms!"

Frenzy halted. He looked back at the mechs behind him, growling.

"What am I supposed to do?" he clicked in their language.

Barricade frowned, optics scanning intently on any possible security field that could be around the base. He snarled as there indeed was one, a dome surrounding the entire structure, pulsing quicker and quicker as Frenzy eased toward it.

"Frenzy, stop there," he ordered. "What can you see from your position?"

Frenzy rose onto the tips of his toes, peering into one of the tiny windows.

His visual was set and clear.

Inside, the unmistakable Optimus Prime…

Coolant surging through his systems at a sudden heated temperature and he cursed under his breath, snarling. He rumbled angrily in his throat, then stopped immediately when his optics fell to a youngling in his hands. The mechling was yellow and black, smiling up at the mech that held him in such a fatherly manner.

Frenzy had seen enough.

He didn't hesitate to run back clumsily, words of Cybertronian sputtering from his mouth.

Frenzy clicked and grunted, telling them, "A youngling! Youngling!" He pointed back at the base. "Optimus Prime is inside base too, holding youngling." His hands clasped together. "The two…_attached_."

Starscream laughed lowly in his modulators, grinning. "Optimus Prime…attached to the youngling?" He laughed again. "Excellent!"

Barricade raised an optic ridge. "I don't understand how that is _excellent_."

"You _fool_, we can _steal_ the youngling from him!" the jet chuckled. "…Injure him by wrenching his spark first. And once the youngling is gone in our grasp, his depression will be immense enough to distract his entire squad, thus giving us the clearance to launch our attack." He threw his head back and laughed, claws clicking. "Perfect!"

Barricade grinned, as did Frenzy and the two laughed evilly. "It'll be the _perfect_ moment to strike…" his optics gleamed. "And when shall we be stealing this youngling for ourselves?"

Starscream turned from the base, and the others followed the second-in-command to their Leader obediently, eagerness alive in their ice cold sparks.

"We will kidnap the youngling soon," the jet told them, his smile wide on his faceplate. "And I tell you both, by nightfall, the little one will be _in our claws_."

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I tried portraying the Cons as best as I could. x3 I'm not that good at bein' evil. xD Anywhoo, review! (that rhymes.)


	9. Chapter IX: Scarlet Orbs

Longest chapter I have ever done! O.O Phew, nine pager. I'm sure some of you may have done more, but for me, xD that takes too much time. But, hey! I've never had so much fun writin' a chapter before! I hope you all love it as much as I did/do! x3 Wellll, go enjoy and review pleaseeee my lovely viewers.

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**Chapter Nine –Scarlet Orbs in the Shadows of the Night **

**At the Autobot Base**

**Optimus' Quarters**

Optimus shifted his mighty form onto the metal berth with a quiet sigh from his intakes, letting the tiny form slip from between his hands onto his stomach plating. Bumblebee tumbled to the mech's lap with a quick chirp, and then sat himself upright as Optimus leaned against the wall. The mech cupped a hand around the mechling's body whilst stroking his tiny head with his thumb. His optics warmed to a deep blue as they stared into Bumblebee's wide ones, but no smile curved his metal lips. He kept his optics warm and his faceplate against the devotion they showed, his facets shifting to a serious and concerned manner.

Bumblebee blinked at him and smiled as he hinted nothing, whirring as he looked around the quarters. A tiny breath of awe shuddered from his intakes as he giggled at the monitors. Pointing a yellow digit at the screens, he asked, "What're those?"

Optimus gave each monitor a quick glance before he gently turned Bumblebee's head away, lifting the bot's chin with one finger so his optics fixed into his. Bumblebee stared innocently, whirring softly in confusion.

"Huh?" he twittered.

Optimus frowned deeper. "Youngling, what was upsetting you earlier?" he whispered, thumbing slowly over Bumblebee's cheekplate ridges. "Why were you crying?"

Bumblebee froze. That topic, right now?

His spark shook inside him.

The mechling choked back a sudden sob in his throat, shivering as he did. His optics dropped to the floor and Optimus shook his head, giving his cheekplate a tap. Bumblebee returned his gaze.

"Bumblebee," the mech sighed. "You can tell me anything and everything."

Bumblebee's optics drooped.

"You _know_ that, little one…"

The mechling shut his optics, trying to force the energon tears that welled in his ducts away as they threatened to spill. He whimpered as he felt Optimus hand ease him against the towering mech's stomach plating, and his wide optics opened to dump tears onto his cheekplates.

Bumblebee sniffled and managed to choke out through tears, "M-My parents…"

Optimus stroked his little body slowly, reaching his fingertips through space between the yellow armor plating. He softly tussled the wires in their reach, back and forth, brushing some against the mechling's protoform body that lie beneath his armoring.

"Your parents," he whispered. "What of them?"

Bumblebee sniffled again before going on. "I-I miss them, Optimus," he stuttered out. "I w-wish they didn't have to go…"

Optimus optic ridges slowly angled, brow furrowing. He was silent for many astroseconds, watching the mechling's frame quake with every sob that sputtered from his modulators. Tears shook of Bumblebee's chin and his little form buried itself into Optimus' stomach plating. The mech eased Bumblebee deep against his plating, gently stroking the yellow door wings that fluttered on the youngling's back.

"Shhh," was all he managed to say before his processor drifted away. "Quiet…"

"M-Mmm…"

Optimus remembered back to when the youngling had been found, crying in sheer devastation in the complete loneliness and hopelessness he had been in – Sobbing for a miracle to somehow show itself, to fall out of the sky. How Optimus had found the youngling in his despair struck an alarm in his central processor. The bot had been alone, isolated from any mech or femme figure.

That loneliness had to mean something.

Death of his creators…

"Bumblebee," he started in a gentle tone, optics watching the crying youngling. "You were alone when we found you…" He didn't know how to continue without wrenching the little spark, and he sighed. "…Where were your creators?"

The answer was evident, but Bumblebee had to say it. He had to admit it.

Bumblebee shook his head quickly, refusing to answer with a tiny whimper.

"Little one, you must get this off of your processor," coaxed Optimus in the most comforting tone his rumbling voice could muster. He thumbed over the small yellow head, between the drooped antennae until his thumb fell over the Autobot insignia. He traced the little symbol, listening as Bumblebee's cries calmed to sniffles and whimpers.

Optimus' finger stroked over the youngling's yellow chest, patting it twice. "Control yourself," he murmured, lifting the bot into his arms. Bumblebee instinctively snuggled into the warm spark that thrummed oh so invitingly, letting his own beat against it. Soon, the youngling's hummed in sync with the mech's, calming him down to a collection of indistinct murmurs.

"Shhh, shhh," the mech cooed again. "Relax further."

Bumblebee took in a deep breath through his intakes, letting the air out against Optimus as his frame shivered. The mech held the bot tighter, swaying.

"Now," he began. "Tell me what happened to them, little one."

Bumblebee's optics focused on the wall aimlessly. "Th-The bad people took them away," quaked the mechling's modulators. "A-All of them."

Optimus' optics slitted slightly. "Who, Bumblebee? Your two creators?"

Bumblebee nodded whilst a tear trickled. "A-And my brother…" His tiny cries began to worsen. "Sp-Sparkfire…"

"Sparkfire," Optimus echoed. Three robots lost from the youngling's life, so quickly, _too_ quickly. The amount of sorrow constricting and twisting Bumblebee's spark had to be severe to the point of utter depression.

How the youngling could even muster a smile was a wonder in itself.

Bumblebee cried out suddenly, burying his head. The words in his processor just refused to come out of his mouth, getting to his throat only to be choked back with sobs. Helplessly, he let himself go, sobs bawling out. Every cry resembled the pain housed in his spark, the fear of loneliness overwhelming his every circuit.

Optimus shook his head at the mechling with a quiet sigh. Thick digits brushed over the youngling's frame and the mech forced his spark to beat stronger, warmer, and richer in its hums. Bumblebee, again, quieted, but said nothing.

Optimus opened his mouth to speak, but stopped himself with a grunt. He didn't feel the time was right, that any further questions would only prod the mechling into another fit of sobs. The questions would have to hold until the time was right.

"Quiet, Bumblebee," he whispered, leaning down to press his lips against the bot's head in a soft, fatherly kiss. "I will not interrogate you any further, little one."

Bumblebee whirred, as if to give thanks for the mech's decision.

"I-I'm sorry," he whimpered.

"You did nothing wrong," Optimus corrected him almost too quickly. "Nothing wrong at all..."

Bumblebee laid his receptor against Optimus' spark, melting into the embrace the mech had around him with a soft purr. Though his processor was alive with memories of his creators and Sparkfire, alive with memories that would ever haunt him, they seemed to be absent. The war hardened Optimus Prime, excluding how rough and aged his outer casing may make him appear, could comfort a youngling like magic, in the blink of an optic even.

Especially _this_ little one.

Bumblebee would always feel safe in such arms, by such a spark cased by such a mech as Optimus Prime.

No other robot in the universe could show as much love for one little mechling.

**/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\**

**Unknown Location**

**A Few Miles Away from a Recently Destroyed District**

"How much further until we reach the base?" droned Barricade's rumbling voice, his scarlet optics giving the second in command a slightly skeptical glance. "Surely we should be nearing."

Starscream groaned at the scout's impatience and continued walking, his footsteps soft against the dirt ground. Barricade blinked his optics twice. Surely Starscream wasn't that glitched in the processor to not have heard him.

"Starscream…"

"_Five_ Earth minutes, you impatient moron," barked the jet. "Must you ask every mile?!"

Barricade sighed. "With all due _respect_, Sir," he growled. "You're wrong. I have _not_ asked every mile, according to my calculations."

"Perhaps you should check _again_, scout."

"I have," he replied boldly. "It's _you_ who needs to check again, if anyone. You've reported to me saying we were five Earth minutes away from our base about four miles ago. Are you certain _this time_?"

Starscream released a heated sigh. "Another comment like that and I'll have your aft in detention for an entire stellarcycle."

Barricade snorted quietly under a sigh from his intakes. He turned his red optics to the still dark sky, watching as the rain continued to fall. He frowned. "Permission to _advise_?"

"What is it _this time_?" groaned Starscream.

"It would be wise if we took on our alternate forms," the scout said. "It would be - "

"Walking is perfectly fine," snapped the jet.

"As I was _saying_," Barricade continued.

"You were advising…"

Barricade sighed and continued. "…It would take less time, considering that I can travel speeds three hundred miles per Earth hour. And you, Sir, can easily reach Mach 3."

Starscream kept walking, pushing past trees and struggling to manage his wide frame between them. He snarled softly.

Barricade frowned deeper. "Sir - "

Starscream cut him off and transformed in the matter of astroseconds, his main engines roaring as his jet form blasted to the skies, ascending higher until leveling out at a moderate, yet fast speed. Barricade, with a small sigh, transformed into his alternate mode, chasing after the jet.

"Why Megatron chose _you_ as his second in command," he muttered under his purring engine. "…Will always be _beyond_ me."

**/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\**

**Nightfall at the Autobot Base**

Bumblebee's wide optics drooped at their corners as they stared ahead of him, scanning silently in the pitch black night that engulfed every square inch of Optimus' quarters. The only light that shone was the dim glow of the monitors mounted on the wall and the radiance of the Cybertronian moons.

The mechling whirred to himself softly before he opened his mouth to yawn, sprawling his little form out on top of Optimus spark. A massive hand covered him like a metal blanket, curious and gentle fingers soon following with incredibly light touches along his frame. Bumblebee enjoyed every astrosecond of it, his wings moving out and in, out and in with his satisfaction.

He yawned again, then chirped in surprise at a sudden clap of thunder and bolt of lightning. Optimus made a low sound of protest, stroking Bumblebee's head in his recharge. He managed to murmur, "It's okay," in a voice barely over a whisper. "Recharge, little one."

Bumblebee hummed nervously. He wished the never ending storm would stop. The crackles of thunder and striking lightning only made him remember the death of his creators. Closing his optics, Bumblebee tried to remember something peaceful, something that would ease him toward recharge…

**Cut to Flashback**

**Over One Earth Year Ago at Bumblebee's Unit…**

_"There ya go, Bee! You're doin' it!" _

_A gentle hand pushed up against the youngling's bottom, easing him up on the berth and completely supporting his little form. Bumblebee's tiny yellow hands sat flat on the metal before their digits dug in, and the youngling grunted as he pulled himself onto the berth. Sprawled out on his tummy, he looked up as a young mech sat beside him, his own wide, baby blue optics staring into a deep blue pair. _

_"Good, Bee," a voice cooed. _

_The young mech was fitted in yellow armoring with certain plates accented white and black, two qualities he had inherited from his creators. His faceplate was well structured with curved cheekplates and angular facets, along with a pair of deep blue optics that sat drooped slightly on his young face. He had door wings like his brother, his obviously larger and a little more curved in shape. A yellow hand fell against his little brother's back, and his metal lips curved into a smile as Bumblebee hummed happily. _

_"I knew you could do it, Bee," he whispered, his voice smooth, but only at the tenor tone. The young mech was not fully fledged, nor was he a complete youngling, but somewhere in between. He could be considered the equivalent of a human preteen and he was already a recruited soldier. _

_Bumblebee purred, wide optics upturning as his little form swayed in time with the massive hand's strokes against his body. The yellow digits brushed against him in ways that made him chirp and twitter in a delight he hadn't felt in too long. The mechling pressed his form against his brother's side, tiny arms wrapping as best they could around it. _

_"Sparkfire," the little mech cooed with a small giggle._

_Sparkfire's optics warmed even deeper, glowing softly in a brilliant imploring blue through the dark shadows of the night. He scooted further back on the recharge berth as he took his little brother in his hands, cradling him in his arms._

_"I'm right here, Bee," came the soft reply. "What is it?"_

_"Can we go outside tomorrow?" asked Bumblebee quietly. His words faded off with a yawn, and his tiny form squirmed as he stretched. Little limbs creaked and yellow digits separated on his small hands. Sparkfire melted at the faceplate that scrunched in the mechling's exhaustion, oh so cute, oh so innocent. _

_Bumblebee was the most precious mechling he could ever behold. _

_Sparkfire gave Bumblebee's fuel tanks a soft pat, then began rubbing circles into them. The little mech instantly quieted, giggling underneath his brother's fingers._

_"We'll see. It could rain again," Sparkfire grinned. "How 'bout we sleep on it?" _

_Bumblebee whirred, burying his head against the warm spark that beat beside his audio receptor. The way it thrummed was too inviting, keeping a steady rhythm. The tiny blue heart of the mechling shifted into a synced rhythm, thrumming and humming along with his brother's. Sparkfire felt this through the close bond he had with Bumblebee, leaning down to plant a kiss against the bot's foreplate. His metal lips kissed softly against the Autobot insignia and he grinned wider in the dark._

_"That's my little Bee," he whispered, leaning back against a wall. His optic lids fell and his internal systems quieted, working under less stress and pressure as he began to slip into recharge. "Sleep well, okay?"_

_Bumblebee whirred, then twittered to himself as he remembered something. Sparkfire felt the tiny form shift and wriggle against his spark chamber, a little hand prodding him to open his optics._

_"'Fire," squawked the mechling in a small voice._

_"Hmm?"_

_"S-Song," was the one worded reply. _

_Sparkfire opened his optics slowly with a wide grin highlighting his faceplate, and he took the bot in his hands, raising his knees before he sat Bumblebee in his lap. Instinctively, Bumblebee laid his receptor against his brother's spark, listening to it hum. He then heard the smooth voice of his brother as he began to sing to him softly, Sparkfire's fingers brushing to and fro against the mechling. _

_Bumblebee melted instantly. _

_The way the young mech's voice slid into the bot's audios was sensational, not only to the receptors, but to the spark as well. His lifesource beat against and with his brother's as the melody slid under the night with liquid grace, every pitch perfect, every note a song in its own. It was a lullaby and it calmed the mech to a state of complete relaxation. _

_Sparkfire was the best brother a bot could have. _

_Bumblebee closed his optics as the soft song ended. Metal lips returned to his foreplate and held there, murmuring words in Cybertronian the young one couldn't understand. _

_But, then, he heard the familiar, "__Lavesho'aii arderyi," feeling his spark thrum happily in their bond. Sparkfire pulled away and gave the bot the perfect time to hop up, planting a kiss on his brother's cheekplate. The young mech laughed, embracing the little life in his arms. _

_Bumblebee's tiny hands latched to his brother's arms. "Lavesho'aii arderyi…" he whispered, nuzzling his head into the warm spark that beat nearby. "'Fire, don't leave me." _

_"You know I'll never leave you, Bee," the young mech said back with a smile. "I'm your brother, and brothers are forever, you know."_

_Bumblebee whirred. "I didn't know that," he said innocently. "…But, I like it."_

_Sparkfire chuckled. "Me too." _

_A single fingertip ran over his brother's spark chamber and gave it a few quick taps before lying there, feeling the tiny hums of the little spark that beat inside the mechling. "And I'll always be in here, Bee."_

_Bumblebee looked down to his brother's finger, blinking at it. "How…?" he murmured._

_Sparkfire grinned. "I just will," he told his brother, rubbing circles into his spark. "Don't worry. Whenever you need me to stand with you, just talk and listen to this little heart, you got that?" _

_Bumblebee grinned in return. "Okay…" he whispered. "Then…" He wriggled around and set both of his tiny palms against Sparkfire's spark, feeling it beat with an even wider smile. "I wanna be in yours too."_

_The young mech laughed, rattling his mechling brother. "You will," he cooed. "Our bond is inseparable, Bee. No one can get between us, ya got that?" He nuzzled his foreplate against his brother's. "Never, ever."_

_Bumblebee squealed happily, giggling. "I like the sound of that," he replied, smiling from receptor to receptor. _

_A single kiss to his cheekplate was the young mech's answer, followed by, "Me too, Bee," in a whisper. _

_He pressed Bumblebee against his spark, shutting his optics as he began to sway. _

_"Me too…" _

**End Flashback**

The shifting of the mighty form beneath Bumblebee shook him from his daydream. Optimus hummed to himself softly in his recharge, keeping his massive hand over the mechling like a giant blanket. Bumblebee cuddled under it, wide optics focusing on the small window fixed high on the wall. He stared at the orbs in the sky, the Cybertronian moons, letting his processor wander off again.

"'Fire," he whispered under his breath, feeling tears begin to sting his optics again. Bumblebee set a tiny hand over his spark, feeling as it pulsed along with Optimus', but yet, it felt so alone. Sure, Optimus' spark was warm, inviting, and just like his creators' and Sparkfire's combined to one. But, no matter how exact it came to be, no spark would be like his brother's. Sparkfire's heart was irreplaceable.

Bumblebee sighed, shifting into a curled form on top of Optimus' spark. The silence was getting to him, and a craving for sweet energon nagged at his emptying tanks. He whirred and shifted again, staring up at the window.

And the, he saw it…

Two bright scarlet orbs stared down into his optics, piercing him to the very lifesource. They blinked, then disappeared in an astrosecond.

"Huh…?!"

Bumblebee was left disarrayed, his little form sitting up immediately with a tiny chirp quaking in his throat.

Had he seen them? Or was his processor just initiating his over reacting imagination…?

He shuddered.

What were those?

Bumblebee cried out in fear as the door of Optimus' quarters hissed and pulled away. The mechling scurried off of the mighty mech's chest, crawling down onto the berth and huddling beside Optimus' faceplate. His tiny form pressed against one of the gallant mech's cheekplates and he dared not to whimper, blinking through blurring vision. Footsteps sounded and approached, and soon, the form revealed itself. Bumblebee looked up…

Only to see the welcoming figure of the second in command, Jazz.

Jazz leaned down, blinking at the mechling. "You alright, kid?" his deep, mellow voice asked in a smooth tone as a single claw prodded gentle stroked against the bot's form. "Ya look quite shaken…"

Bumblebee whimpered and shook his head. He didn't want to talk about what he had seen, he chose to ignore it and pay no mind to it. Jazz's optics drooped in concern, then shifted to the recharging form of Optimus that lay on the berth. He prodded the commander's side.

"Sir," he whispered. "Optimus, wake up."

Bumblebee watched as Optimus' optics lids slowly raised and his optics came online with their deep blue hue, each blinking twice to sharpen his vision. They turned to Jazz as he slowly sat up, straightening his posture on the berth with a quiet sigh from his intakes.

"Where's Bumblebee?" the commander asked, voice modulators crackling quietly online.

Jazz pointed at his side.

Optimus looked down at the mechling at his side, then gently took him into his hands, cradling him against his stomach plating. He shifted before holding the bot in his arms and drawing the little frame against his chest. Bumblebee snuggled without a word, only purring to himself. He listened as the mighty commander's air intakes worked behind the red and blue armor that covered his chest, along with a spark that beat oh so greatly.

Thick fingers danced along his frame and Bumblebee listened as they spoke, wide optics looking from one mech to the other as each one conversed.

"Optimus, we're getting these strange readings from outside the base," the second in command reported. "Radars' tellin' us we might have 'erselves a lil' company."

The commander sat up straighter, brow furrowing as he donned a more serious faceplate. Decepticons attacking at this hour? A wise choice indeed on their part. Optimus had to take great heed of what the radars had perceived. He would not let the enemy attack and frighten Bumblebee again; it was his _promise_ to the mechling.

He sighed again. "Give me a moment…"

The commander nodded once to Jazz, dismissing him. The silver mech walked off, ambling once he reached the door and looked over his shoulder at the two.

Bumblebee whimpered as Optimus lowered him to the berth. "D-Don't go…"

Optimus rose to his feet slowly, then turned his deep blue optics to the tiny mech on the berth, reaching down to slowly cup his hand around the mechling's back. Bumblebee's little head nuzzled into its palm, but his wide optics refused to part away from Optimus', and they began to glimmer with energon tears.

"Pw-Pwease…"

The sight was truly spark wrenching to the mech, for he knew almost every component of the energon that shone in those wide optics. The horrible fear and longing to never be alone again, the wanting to be secure and protected from the Decepticons who had taken away every mech and femme he had ever known. Optimus had to attend his matters though; They were a part of his duty.

He didn't want Bumblebee to see the monitors and radars, fearing it would only heighten the feelings of fright in the mechling. But, leaving him in the quarters, would that be any better? He would be alone…Solitary from him in the dark with the storm going on just behind the base walls.

He had a decision to make, and Primus was it difficult.

Optimus lowered himself at the youngling's side, easing the tiny form against his thigh.

"Prime, ya comin'?" came Jazz's voice as Bumblebee crawled into the commander's lap.

Optimus didn't answer for astroseconds, his optics drooping as they watched the mechling's form quake with each sob of despair. Oh, how the sympathy wrenched his spark to the point of pain – Throbbing dully in his entire chest. He looked away when he felt tears well in his own optic ducts, and he sighed through his air intake valves.

"I will be with you all momentarily, Jazz," was his murmured reply. He looked back to Bumblebee who continued crying against his stomach plating, the fine movements of his shaking body only adding to his sympathy each time. "Let me attend to this little one first…"

Jazz watched with a frown at the crying young one, then turned on his heel and departed from their presence. Optimus and Bumblebee were like Creator and Creation. Inseparable mech and mechling.

Optimus swayed the bot back and forth once he was cradled against his spark, patting his little back to quiet his cries. Bumblebee shivered and Optimus shook his head, creating a low sound in his throat. Bumblebee pressed his head against Optimus' throat, whirring at the noise.

"D-Don't leave me here," quaked the little mech. "Pl-Please. I-I don't…" His words were choked in his throat, and he couldn't manage to get them out. Optimus understood with a single nod, his fingers coaxing the bot to relax.

"I know your pain, little one. I'm aware of it all," he sighed. "I will not leave you."

Bumblebee smiled faintly in relief, nestling him form perfectly against Optimus' spark. "Th-Thank you," he sputtered out through his cries. "I just didn't - "

"I understand, youngling," whispered the mech, shaking his head. "Do not be afraid." He planted a soft kiss against the bot's receptor. "I will not let the Decepticons hurt you."

"Thank you…" was the tiny reply.

Little did Optimus know that Bumblebee would be in danger in a matter of breems…

Astroseconds of silence passed by and as Optimus stood, Bumblebee spoke again.

"Optimus…?"

"Yes, little one."

"Can I call you, 'Daddy?'"

Daddy…

The word echoed. How one simple name could soften a spark that had lived through numerous battles, one that was hardened from the terrible war, it was truly amazing. Optimus smiled from receptor to receptor, knowing the answer the instant the innocent little bot looked up at him with those wide optics.

How could he say no to such a face?

"Of course you may," Optimus cooed, planting a kiss against Bumblebee's cheekplate.

Bumblebee giggled and hugged Optimus' spark with his tiny arms. "Thanks," he giggled again, propping his chin against the mech's chest to look up at him. "…Daddy."

Optimus grinned. "You're most certainly welcome, my little one."

**/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\**

**Less than a Breem Later.**

**In the Autobot Base… **

Optimus stepped into the room, his optics immediately taking note of the many monitors that hung on its walls and radars that beeped and twittered on desktops. Bumblebee's wide optics soaked everything in. He watched as the mechs worked professionally, then all looked up in unison as their leader entered the room. Respectful nods were given and soon Jazz was at the commander's side.

"We're still getting' those signals," he sighed, shrugging. "They're foreign…Could be unidentified Autobots 'er…"

"Decepticons," finished the commander. He moved over to a desk and sat the youngling on it, patting the back of the little one's head before he gave him a reassuring smile, optics warming. "Don't worry. I'm not going to leave you."

Bumblebee nodded with a smile in return, then watched as the mech moved to the center of the room. His wide optics continued to look at the monitors and radars, a giggle of awe hopping from his modulators. His gaze fell over a single window and he blinked.

They were there again. _Staring_ right at him.

Two scarlet orbs in the night.

Bumblebee's optics widened and he stared right back. They didn't scare him anymore. No…They were inviting, warm…Friendly. Bumblebee wanted to go closer to them and he started to stand. No one noticed him looking at the window.

The mechling gasped softly as he saw a claw shine in the light of the Cybertronian moons, behind the glass. It curled inward, then out, inward and out again, coaxing him to come outside.

"Come here, little one…" It seemed to say.

"Ohhh," Bumblebee breathed.

Outside…Bumblebee's processor knew the aftermath of going out there…Discovery.

He wanted to see those orbs, how intriguing they were to such a bot. Bumblebee giggled quietly and the two orbs disappeared. He frowned.

"Nooo," he whined softly to himself.

Bumblebee whirred under a sigh from his intakes. He had to go outside. Something in his spark was nagging him to find out what those two red orbs were.

The mechs turned their backs and began conversing with one another, giving this little bot the perfect time to sneak out. Bumblebee hopped off the desk and scurried from the room, peeking his head back in. No one had noticed him and, chirping happily, the little bot tottered down the hall, not knowing the slightest bit of the danger he had just gotten himself into.

**/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\**

**Ten Earth Minutes Later…**

Bumblebee stepped one foot into the sloppy mud ground, shivering as he noticed light rain still falling from the sky. His wide optics looked up and down, left and right, desperate to see those brilliant orbs again. He stumbled forward, his little frame wobbling out into the night.

So vulnerable, he was…

He meandered for astroseconds, but then, a raspy voice halted him instantly.

"Come over here, little one," it said in a forced, coaxing tone. "Right here…"

Bumblebee looked to where the voice had sounded. His optics fell over a collection of trees. Could someone be hidden in them? It was so dark…

"Over here…"

The questions in his processor only pushed the youngling's curiosity further and in these situations, such things could be potentially threatening to his well being.

"Huhh?" Bumblebee breathed, easing toward the tree. "Wh-Who's there?"

"That's right, little one," the harsh voice came again in a whisper. "Look what I have for a special little mech like you."

Suddenly, a cube of energon appeared before Bumblebee, the liquid glowing brightly in a blue color. It looked amazingly delicious to his hungry tanks and he giggled in excitement, tottering toward the sweet fuel. His little hands reached up as the cube lowered, and Bumblebee noted two claws holding it oh so delicately. He didn't care. He wanted the food, and that's all his processor focused on.

It fit between his hands perfectly and the mechling fell back on his aft in satisfaction, grinning before his tilted his head back and began gulping down the liquid. A hiss emitted from the dark and the tip of a claw stroked the bot's throat to coax the liquid down, followed by a quiet snicker in the shadows. Bumblebee suspected nothing.

"Good, good, that's right, little one," the voice spoke again. "Drink up…"

The scarlet orbs appeared in the dark and stared at Bumblebee, coaxing him closer. Bumblebee stood with a big gulp of energon, and the claw slowly wiped away the blue liquid that stained around the bot's mouth.

A hoarse cackle of laughter followed and suddenly, the youngling was clutched in the mighty claw. The cube of energon fell from the bot's hands and spilled on the mud ground, pale liquid trickling.

"Ahhhhh!!"

Bumblebee cried out, but the noise was stopped as the claw's tip sat over his mouth. Deep laughter resonated from the darkness engulfing the trees, but it wasn't one mech laughing, there were more.

Decepticons…

Another pair of red orbs revealed themselves and each of the two stared down at Bumblebee, upturning at his fear.

"Excellent technique, Sir," said a deep voice. "How I had doubted you…Such a mistake."

A pleasant shriek struck the air. "I might as well appoint myself as _leader_ of the Decepticons," snarled the harsh voice. The mech pet the youngling's head, laughing as tears poured from his wide optics. "He's defenseless…What a pathetic excuse for a mech."

"I do agree. Shall we bring him to the base?"

Bumblebee tried to scream, but each cry was only an attempt. The claw covering his mouth muffled him, and pretty soon, the Decepticon was becoming angered.

"Mute it, you incompetent _swine_," growled the mech. "Or I shall destroy your modulators with the tip of my own claw!"

Bumblebee whimpered, but immediately shut his voice processors off temporarily. A roar of laughter shook his frame and he tried to think of a way to contact Optimus, contact _any_ source of help. Tears flooded and dumped from his optics. He regretted leaving the base, the security of being near Optimus Prime…

"D-Daddy," he managed to sputter.

_Daddy…_

The laughter echoed around him, and soon, he felt his tiny form being drawn deeper into the shadows. Darkness swallowed him up in an astrosecond. He wanted to scream, cry for help. The scarlet orbs continued to stare at him, and he realized.

These orbs were not inviting, they were not warm, and they certainly were not friendly.

He was raised into the air and he heard the roar of an engine below him. Whatever held him hissed in great excitement, clutching his little body tighter. It walked in massive strides and passed over puddles of muddy water, puddles that continued to grow with the rain that still fell. Bumblebee looked down in them…

And he caught a glimpse of the monster that had him.

The light from the Cybertronian moons struck the puddles and radiated light up at them, striking the huge body of the Decepticon. Bumblebee saw that the mech's reflection. He had a wide pair of broad shoulders, taloned, bird-like feet, and a faceplate as cold as ice itself, and those piercing red orbs…

No, they weren't orbs. They were _optics_. Horribly colored optics.

Bumblebee turned and watched the Autobot base grow faint in the distance, the claw sliding away from his mouth. The overwhelming sense of loneliness fell over his spark and constricted it yet again, and here he was – _Alone_. For all he knew, that could have been the last time Optimus would have held him, and the first and the last time Bumblebee would have uttered the word, "Daddy," to him.

Tears spilled. He was hopeless.

Was there any hope?

Yes, there was.

The mechling shut his optics and buried his head into his palms, shivering. Primus had heard his little prayer before, maybe he would hear it again…

"P-Primus, help me," he quaked through tears. "I-I…I-I don't wanna die." The claw tightened around him and he squeaked, then regained his concentration to begin again. "D-Don't let th-them hurt me, please. D-Don't let the bad people g-get me…"

He looked up at the sky, optics tear-glazed. "'Fire, if you're up there and you see me…" he whispered. "Could you help me like you helped me onto that berth?" He smiled faintly. "Pl-Please, 'Fire. I n-need you…Please…"

His optics fell over his own tiny spark, and he clutched it with both hands, shutting his optics in a whimper.

"I kn-know you're here, 'F-'Fire…H-Help me…"

* * *

Mwuhahahahhaaaaa. Will Bee be saved?! Find out! xD


	10. Chapter X: The Scars on a Tender Spark

Phew! Sorry for the long wait, guys! School...ughhhh. I hate it. Gets in the way too much. But, yep, another long chapter. xD And anyone who has read my fiction titled, "You'll Be in my Spark," will recognize the name of an OC I'm introducing in this chapter! x3

Well, nothin' more. Go read!! xD And reviewwww.

* * *

**Chapter Ten – The Scars on a Tender Spark **

**The Autobot Base**

"Bumblebee?!"

Optimus' terrified optics darted from side to side, frantically searching for a particular yellow form. His intakes hissed as he darted around the desk the bot had _just_ been seated on, shaking his head in disbelief as he saw the mechling nowhere. His optics fell on the floor, under the desk, to the walls, on the ceiling…And yet, the youngling was nowhere to be found.

Frag it, where could he have gone in less than a breem?!

His spark dropped in its chamber, dimming to the faintest glow it had ever reached. Optimus slowly leaned back to his normal, erect posture, letting his optics droop. He stared transfixingly at the floor – Defeated, horribly confused.

"Bumblebee," he murmured.

He wouldn't leave without a reason…Right? Surely something just came up.

Nothing to worry about.

The mechs of the squad blinked at him in the astroseconds of silence. Finally, someone spoke up.

"Prime, what is it?" Ratchet asked, stepping away from the group. "What's wrong?"

"Yeah, remember somethin'?" Jazz said, arching an optic ridge. "What's got ya so down all of a sudden?"

Optimus shook his head again, turning his optics to the open doorway. He frowned deeply, sighing slowly through a breath from his intakes.

Something didn't feel right in his spark. A bad feeling churned in his tanks.

"Did any of you see him leave?" he whispered.

They blinked again.

"I know I didn't see no one," Jazz commented. He looked over his shoulder to the mechs. "Wha' about you guys?"

"Nothin'," grunted Ironhide.

Optimus felt the dull beginnings of energon tears sting his optics. He began to worriedly pace the room, his flame accented arms folding across his burly chest.

"Scan each and every room of the base," he ordered, optics pinned to the ground. "I want that youngling _found_…And soon."

Everyone moved to their proper stations without asking any further questions to spike the commander's worry, and they worked in more astroseconds of silence. Optimus paused before a wall and slowly lifted his head to a tiny window fixed high on it. His optics drooped even more as he looked up to the orbs of the Cybertronian moons, sighing quietly to himself.

The youngling had to be in the base, but…Something told him otherwise.

Primus, he just couldn't put his processor on it.

He didn't have that usual feeling in his spark. His spark now was dropped inside him, sitting, waiting for the youngling's to be near. Bumblebee would never just leave Optimus at random…Without _telling_ him. After sealing their father-son relationship with a simple word, with, "Daddy," would Bumblebee really just run off?

Something wasn't completing this puzzle.

He bowed his head and his optic lids fell, another exasperated sigh leaving his intakes.

"Have you scanned the base?" he asked lowly, anticipating the reply.

Silence followed. The obvious answer was too inevitable.

"Prime," Ratchet finally sighed to break the silence. "No one, but us is present in the base at this time." He shook his head. "I don't understand what could have happened to the youngling."

"Yeah, wasn't he just here?" questioned Ironhide.

Optimus didn't answer. Instead, he opened his optics. His processor was amiss with so many questions, so much confusion as to what exactly happened to the mechling. His little

Bumblebee…Frag it, the bot could be _anywhere_. The world was so big in his wide optics, Prime knew, and everything was so tempting to his eager little servos – To just reach out, feel, explore, and learn. To discover…

His frame sulking, Optimus slowly turned. He promised himself that this youngling would be found and if anyone chose to hurt the innocent little one, the punishments would be beyond the norm.

_Extremely_ beyond. No punishment would be too great.

"Everyone return to your berths. There is nothing more we can do at this hour," he said with a heavy spark, refusing to look at the mech's before him.

"What about tomorrow?" grunted Ironhide. "Search 'n rescue?"

Optimus nodded. "That is exactly what we are to do," he said, meeting everyone's optics. "We'll have to structure a team. We cannot take this mission on our own, and jeopardize the possibility of becoming overwhelmed by Decepticons."

He shifted his optics to Jazz. "You're the second in command. Devise a team, contact as many as possible before dawn."

The silver saboteur blinked, raising an optic ridge. "But, Prime…S'like, after midnight."

The commander adverted his optics with a deep frown and closed them. "This is an _emergency_, Jazz," he sighed. "Disturbing others is definitely not something I'm exactly worried about."

Each mech blinked at their leader. Optimus was obviously bothered to the spark about Bumblebee's sudden disappearance. It was obvious that he was holding so of the distraught feelings away. Bumblebee was like the leader's own sparkling, _already_, after barely a day of getting to know the little bot. Bumblebee had a tiny spark that could not be compared to any mechling in the universe. It was so young, innocent and strong, yet so scarred…

Any further damage to Bumblebee…Optimus shuddered at the thought.

Primus, the bot was too sensitive at such a tender age. And he could be _anywhere_…Lost outside in the dark, hurt even, or worse – In Decepticon claws.

The thoughts were absolutely wrenching.

"Work for the next few breems, Jazz. As for the rest of you, return to your berths," Optimus ordered again, listening to three of the four mechs behind him depart. He sighed and tried his best to force thoughts from his processor, but the weight in his spark refused him to do so.

"Prime, yuh' gonna be a'ight?" he heard Jazz's voice ask.

He didn't respond.

Optimus turned his optics to the window again without a word.

_Primus_, he thought to himself. _Spare his little life…_

"Bumblebee, my little…son…" He hesitated on the last word, feeling his spark flutter a bit awkwardly. "If you are in fear, little one, do not be any longer. We will come for you. You will not be harmed…" He stopped, offlined his optics as they fell shut, and then added in a breath. "Fight your fear and pain until your rescue. You have a strong spark, little one…Listen to it. Stay strong."

**/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\**

**Decepticon Base – Unknown Location**

_"Youngling confiscated in his holding cell, my Lord. Shall I begin his treatment?"_

_A low rumble of laughter sounded, then a growl silenced it. "Not yet," spoke a cold voice. "The Energon…Was it - "_

_"The Energon was poisoned, yes," answered a raspy voice. _

_"Has the youngling awakened yet?"_

_"No, Lord. He should be back online within a single breem."_

_"Excellent…When the youngling awakes, you may begin your interrogation. If he refused to answer within Earth seconds, you know your duties."_

_"Yes, Megatron," two voices said in unison. _

Voices, voices, voices…Each one echoed throughout the youngling's head moments after they were spoken. Wide, baby blue optics fluttered open and tried to focus themselves from their horribly blurred vision, focusing in and out, sharpening and blurring all over again. A groggy, almost sick, whirr groaned from his throat, and Bumblebee barely had the strength to sit his own little form upright. His felt a nausea churning in his fuel tanks and the worst, heaviest loneliness clutching his spark like that claw had held him. His processor struck alarms and initiated only the beginning of a terrible fear.

Where was he?

"Op-Opti-…O-Optimus…?"

His vision was still blurry. Dark colors swirled and merged together, images grew and stretched along the walls, and things spun slowly to only disarray the bot. He shivered. The atmosphere alone was eerie, cold, frightening – This _was not_ home. This was not Optimus' quarters.

"Daddy!!"

The little voice echoed for countless Earth seconds. It remained alone.

Something washed over Bumblebee's every wire and each molecule, making him shiver with a groan. The mechling pressed his little knees against his yellow chest panel, burying his head between his legs. Energon tears immediately starting trickling from underneath his optic lids, falling quicker and quicker with each sob he choked out. The fear was like never before, clutching his tiny spark .

Primus, it was horrible. Worse than being alone after the death of his mother. After she had died right before his optics. How that image stung his processor so…And would forever.

A scar.

Bumblebee lifted his head from his legs, listening to his own intake valves work shakily as his optics searched around. He was completely alone in a dark, dreary cell, only faint floodlights at the bases of the walls providing an eerie, dim light. The cell was fixed behind bars, pure metal that no youngling could ever get through. The silence itself was the Pit, screaming in Bumblebee's audios until it was deafening

This could be the beginning of absolute Hell. Only one question repeated itself through the youngling's mind. Had Optimus noticed his disappearance yet – And could they rescue him in time.

He could only pray.

**xXx**_Thud, thud, thud, thud._**xXx**

Bumblebee jumped when footsteps reverberated in the ground and rattled him. Instinctively, he scurried in a dark corner. Whimpers built up in his throat with each massive step, growing louder and louder until he couldn't help it anymore. Bumblebee screamed in despair with terrified blue optics, returning to his huddled position with his head between his thighs. All he could hear were his own sobs, his intakes working furiously, the frightened thrums of his tiny spark, and the footsteps that boomed in his audios. Primus, he hoped for a miracle then and there.

"H-Help me…" he murmured. "D-Daddy…'Fire…"

His spark fluttered awkwardly in his chest and caused his optics to open. He looked down at in innocently, shivering in his cries, then sat his tiny yellow palm over his heart, shutting his optics again.

Sparkfire, Sparkfire, Sparkfire…If no other Autobot could be with him, Bumblebee wanted his brother at his side. That's what a mechling needed, reassurance, love…aid. He couldn't do this alone. Not when the stakes were this high – His life, on the line.

The flutters continued barely, but they were there. Bumblebee, despite the situation, smiled in the shadows, clawing at his spark chamber slowly.

He knew his brother was with him.

And he would forever, just as he had told him.

"_You know I'll never leave you, Bee. I'm your brother, and brothers are forever, you know."_

Bumblebee lifted his head as the footsteps stopped and a massive silhouette appeared. Those scarlet orbs glowered madly, piercing him, refusing his optics to even shift in another direction. He gulped and clutched his spark.

"…_Don't worry. Whenever you need me to stand with you, just talk and listen to this little heart, you got that?_

Bumblebee shivered as the cell bars parted apart and a rumbling laughter echoed in his audios. He huddled deeper in the corner with a frightened whirr, never letting go his spark that beat frantically. He shut his optics in his fear, returning his head to his legs.

He hoped and hoped…But his fear was too great.

Fear, that's all he felt now. The flutters were there, but the reassuring spark of his brother wasn't. If only he were next to his brother, listening to his spark hum and his voice sing. He wanted to go back to that and he tried to force his processor to replay it, but frag it, it was no use.

He could only replay those few words, over and over. It was his only reassurance.

_"…Need me to stand with you…" _

But, what were these flutters in his spark…They didn't feel like his brothers.

Who could it be?

"Prepare for your inevitable fate, youngling," growled the form, ending his moment of thought. Another figure behind it appeared out of the shadows, scarlet optics grinning. The form remained still.

"There's no one here to save you…"

"_I'll never leave you, Bee. I'm your brother, and brothers are forever…"_

Bumblebee clutched his spark tighter, feeling a claw slowly wrap around his body. Laughter rumbled lowly as he was raised. Primus, he could only anticipate, and pray for his life…Pray that his little spark would be spared.

_"…L__isten to this little heart." _

He dared and looked up, meeting the harsh optics of the Decepticon that held him. The shadows were too heavy for him to see the form, but the glimpse of the monster's hideous smirk. A grin full of complete hate, cold anger, and pure wickedness. It shot cold chills through his wires to his very spark.

"…'Fire," the youngling breathed in his shivers.

This was it. This was reality.

He anticipated every bit of the pain. The horror of it all and the presence of these unknown flutters were his only comfort. The other blue heart beside his.

He said again, "'Fire…," as the tip of a claw rose to his spark chamber, peeking in through open space to cut the wires. "…M-Mmm…H-Help me."

"_I'll never leave you, Bee…" _

**/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\**

**Meanwhile at the Autobot Base – Optimus' Quarters **

_"Optimus…?"_

_"Yes, little one." _

_"Can I call you, 'Daddy?'" _

Why did that seem like a memory? Well, it was one, but, the words…They seemed like the kind you would think about over and over, but know in the back of your mind that you would never hear them again.

And that feeling, could it be the near reality? It was absolutely spark wrenching.

Optimus shut his optics as he lay on his berth, the constant nags buzzing in his processor keeping his recharge systems offline, his normal internal ones working in near overdrive.

Bumblebee was fine, he had to be.

Where could he have gone in such a small time frame…

No – He checked his internal chronometer – It had been a couple Earth hours. The mechling was so curious, frag it. _Anything_ could have happened to him.

**xXx**_Knock, knock, knock_**xXx**

Optimus slowly sat himself upright as his optics onlined and shifted to the door of his quarters. Without speaking a word, the door automatically slid aside with a hiss as it gave away, temporary fog covering the forms at the threshold. In unison, they stepped forward, and Optimus immediately noticed the silver saboteur. He started to nod at Jazz, then froze, optics widening as he suddenly recognized the other at his side.

"Dear Primus," he said.

He scrambled off the berth, moving closer to them. "Elita…" he breathed. The candy colored femme fell gently into his secure arms, melting into his embrace immediately like they used to. Her head instinctively took its old position against his spark chamber, feeling as his fingers didn't hesitate the slightest to brush over and across her faceplate, dancing along her frame.

"Optimus," she responded quietly.

Slowly, her blue optics lifted to him, watching as his perfect metal lips curved into the handsomest smile she had ever seen him give her. Elita let him draw her upward as she fingered over his cheekplates, feeling as the facets of it shifted with his widening grin. He kissed against her foreplate and held there, letting every memory of their togetherness flow back to his processor. He took his time as he pulled away, listening to her purr quietly in affection. Her fingers slid to the base of his neck, subconsciously stroking around.

"Jazz contacted me, Prime," she said softly, smiling faintly. "I've received the news about your misfortune." Her smile was gone as she nudged her head against his chestplate. "That poor little youngling…"

Optimus nodded slowly, feeling those feelings of horrible sorrow and even regret drop his spark again. He shuddered slightly as the emotions and closed his optics for a few astroseconds, sighing softly.

"Yes…His disappearance," he whispered, opening his optics to the femme's. "It's quite disarraying. I don't understand how I could have adverted my processor…" He sighed again and shook his head. "…From something so precious."

"Don' worry 'bout it, Prime," Jazz said smoothly, casually stepping forward. "We'll find 'im. Ain't no way no 'Con's gettin' a hold of our lil' Bee." He stepped at Elita's side. "S'why I contacted her 'n _more_ for one kick-aft team."

Elita giggled softly, smiling wider slowly. "I'm aiding you on your mission, honey," she cooed lovingly. "You knew I wouldn't let you go without me."

Optimus' kissed her foreplate again. "Of course you wouldn't, love," he whispered by her receptor in his extremely mellow, rich voice. "My thanks for your help…"

"You don't have to thank me, Optimus," she giggled. Something about her optics changed, perhaps their color. They warmed to a richer blue and upturned slightly at their corners, her perfect mouth curving to a smile. Optimus felt her temperature spike as her spark beat only a little quicker against his. She grinned. "That little mechling…He could be our little

one."

Optimus' optics widened.

_Our little one…_

Primus, why hadn't the thought occurred to him? The mechling had already dubbed him as his _father_, and if he were given a mother…The sight of that was beautiful. Perhaps the little

bot's spark would heal from its scars finally, and his optics would be opened to a world of love and tender care. No more fear, no more war-driven chaos…

Beautiful.

_Our little one…_Their son, their little mechling…

_Bumblebee…_ he thought, subconsciously tucking her head against his neck by lifting his hand to ease it against him.

"Our little mech," he breathed to his sparkmate. "Elita, that's…that's wonderful."

She nodded, nuzzling her cheekplate slowly against his spark chamber. "Only for the best mech in the universe," she whispered, optics gleaming. "I love you, Prime."

Optimus couldn't help, but kiss her again, grinning the entire way through. "I love you, too," he murmured in reply. "More than your processor will ever comprehend."

Jazz grinned sheepishly. "Now, ain't that lovely."

Elita shot a look of mock anger, her mouth fixed in playful smirk. Optimusgrinned and moved his hand up and down his femme's side, tickling his fingers along it lightly. Her receptor fell over his spark and she kept her optics fixed on the silver saboteur.

"Ohh, mute it, Jazz," she growled in a smile. "I'm serious…" She looked up to her mech. "We could raise him, couldn't we?" She grinned slowly. "Wouldn't that be beautiful, honey?" Her fingers slid across his spark chamber, then retraced their route, back and forth, back and forth. "You would make one amazing father…"

Optimus grinned, creating a low purr in his throat as his optics stared lovingly into hers. "You would be an amazing femmebot to our little one," he cooed, his mouth only a mere inch from hers. Elita anticipated a kiss, and leaned for it, but stopped when his metal lips dropped into a frown and his optics turned away. "But, first," he sighed. "The youngling must be found."

The femme nodded quickly, her own faceplate taking on a more serious appearance. Elita turned to look at the silver mech behind them, meeting his dark pair of optics.

"Who else did you contact?" she asked, turning to face him, but remaining in Optimus' strong arms, his wonderfully secure embrace around her candy colored frame.

Jazz shifted to a side whilst crossing his arms casually. "I contacted Mirage," he told them. "He's got that ability we need, y'know. Invisibility – We'll need that if the younglin's in the custody of the 'Cons."

Optimus nodded slowly. "Excellent choice," he complimented.

"Who else?" Elita questioned, beckoning eagerly to know the next Autobot.

"Prowl, he's a tactition, logical, y'know…And his battle computer'll come in handy m'sure."

"Right, in case we're in dire need of a new tactic or strategy," Optimus added. "We won't be entirely prone if we do become cut off by the enemy lines."

"And Prowl can figure a way out," Elita said softly.

"'Xactly," Jazz sighed. "So far, s'all I've contacted."

Optimus thought for a moment. The rescue team was strong – Ironhide, Jazz, Ratchet, himself, Elita One, Mirage, Jazz…He nodded slowly to himself, then met the dark optics of his second in command.

"Try and contact Arcee," he told him. "We need her logic, her talented aim. And Chromia, she's a tough femme warrior. We'll need her aggression." He smiled slightly.

Elita giggled. "Chromia and Ironhide," she grinned. "The _ultimate_ aggressive couple."

Jazz laughed. "Got tha' right," he smiled.

Optimus chuckled, then nodded. "Well, thank you, Jazz," he said in a growing smile. "How grateful I am to have such a trustworthy second in command."

The saboteur grinned sheepishly. "Ya bluffin' me, Prime," he laughed.

The commander grinned in return. "We'll rendezvous with the squad after dawn," he told them both. "Until then Jazz, return to your quarters." His optics upturned. "Thank you for your work."

Jazz shrugged as he began to depart, turning. "Hey, s'what I do, Boss," he smiled.

Elita giggled. "Goodnight, Jazz."

"'Night," the silver mech said as he threw a wave, then stepped from the room, turning down the hall towards his.

The couple was now alone for the first time in what seemed like _vorns_.

Elita looked up into her mech's optics, grinning from receptor to receptor as they lovingly stared deeply into hers, gleaming in a brilliant blue in the shadows. Without a word, he pulled her against him and down until he lay on the berth. She giggled and climbed on top of the mighty transformer that was her sparkmate, her mech, her commander. She felt his spark beating – Thrumming warmly and happily underneath her own.

Optimus leaned up and softly latched his lips with hers, loving each and every second of the passion that flowed in their kiss. Elita felt a low growl rumble in the mech's chest and she purred in reply, angling her head to get deeper in their kiss. Optimus' optics flickered slightly as his systems revved quietly and he leaned up, moving his head in as the femme kissed deeper, then softer, deeper and softer in her purrs.

It felt amazing.

Elita finally pulled away in a soft sigh, meeting the dazzling blue optics of her mech. Optimus' perfect lips curved into a smile and he kissed her a final time on the noseplate. She giggled at him as his quiet laughter shook under her.

He purred. "You set my circuits on fire, Elita."

The way his voice cooed was incredibly sensual, sliding into her audios and melting her spark at the very core. She giggled and snuggled into him.

"As do you, Optimus Prime," she purred lowly. As her optics shut, she began to recharge. "Goodnight, baby."

"Goodnight, love," he whispered back, kissing the top her helm slowly.

The simple feeling of the femme resting on top of him was amazing in itself. And those words…They kept repeating themselves over and over in his processor.

_Our little one…_

Bumblebee _had_ to be found. A dull pain shook his spark and he sighed quietly, closing his optics as he swayed Elita One to and fro against him. She hummed softly in her light recharge.

Optimus offlined his optics before shutting them. Those feelings came back to his spark – Regret, the sorrow… Frowning, he tried to clear his processor, but the emotions were too heavy. The possibilities that had to be considered were too many and the images…Horrifying.

He shuddered slightly. Slag, he needed a miracle. If the youngling was hurt, the chances of his survival were slim. The bot, so precious and young…For sure he didn't know how to properly defend himself. Heck, his armoring was fitted with no sort of any weapon. Bumblebee needed that security only mechs and femmes could give him.

Optimus opened his optics, but kept them offline.

He could only wonder what was happening to his Bumblebee.

**/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\**

**Decepticon Base – Unknown Location**

"_Talk!_"

Barricade tossed Bumblebee carelessly aside, watching with heated red optics as the youngling tossed and turned, then collided into a cell wall. Growling lowly in his chest, he took massive steps forward. His large shadow grew on the mechling, only causing terror-filled whimpers and sobs to begin their eruption in Bumblebee's throat. The tiny mech huddled up in absolute fear, shaking uncontrollably.

Barricade only snarled. "I say to you _again_," he rumbled in authority. "You will answer when you are _ordered_ to!"

At his fierce language, Bumblebee instantly chirped out a cry of despair, refusing to meet optics with the beast that loomed before him.

The Decepticon lowered itself to a height that more suited the youngling's, optics glowering intensely at the tiny thing. A growl made Bumblebee lift his tear-glazed optics, his entire frame sulking and shivering as he cowered. Barricade took nor felt any sympathy in his cold spark, only disgust and fury.

"Again, I ask you," he said, his deep voice echoing in Bumblebee's little audios. "Tell me where your creators are, or I shall not hesitate to harm you."

Barricade knew damn well what had happened to Bumblebee's creators. Hell, he had killed one of them himself, and as for the mech, he was surely dead.

But, like any Decepticon, he wanted to see Bumblebee squirm.

He wanted the youngling in _absolute misery_.

Involuntarily, a shuddering cry skipped from Bumblebee's voice modulators and he couldn't bring himself to answer. No matter how hard he thought or how hard he forced his voice to come out, it wouldn't. He didn't speak in his fit of absolute terror.

"TALK!!"

"Wh-Why did y-you take me a-away?" his little voice finally stuttered, tear filled optics drooping. "Wh-What did I-I d-do wrong?"

Barricade frowned deeply, growling loudly. "Answer my question, youngling!" His claw lashed back, then swung forward against the mechling, sending Bumblebee tumbling a few feet away into a corner. Pain shot up his back, snaking its way alongside his sensitive wiring. His optics fluttered weakly and he dully noticed Barricade returning over him.

The Decepticon scout slowly wrapped his claw around the limp, bot body, bringing it up to his scarlet optics with a look of absolute disgust on his faceplate.

"Such a pathetic excuse for a mechling," he muttered deeply. "How you will ever be an Autobot soldier…I find that hard to accept as true _fact_."

The tip of a claw thumbed over Bumblebee's cheekplates roughly, causing the temporarily disarrayed youngling to jerk online. The Decepticon's red optics were only inches away from his, staring deeply, piercing his tiny soul.

"This is your last warning," he growled. "Answer the question this instant, or prepare to perish, youngling!"

The harsh interrogation sent Bumblebee in an even greater fit of terror. Energon tears poured from his optics – He couldn't simply just answer such a question. Decepticons were sparkless, unpitying…They would never understand how much the death of creators weighted on a spark, especially the little one's of younglings.

"TALK!"

"Th-They're gone!!" Bumblebee screamed in agonizing sorrow and fear, burying his faceplate in his little palms. "Y-You killed them! The b-bad people k-killed them! My m-mom -" He stopped suddenly. He couldn't go on. The pain was too great.

Barricade smirked slowly. "Your mother," he chuckled deeply. "She was such an easy femme to destroy." His voice snarled the last word, optics gleaming. "I offlined her in a breem's time, youngling. How _weak_ she was…"

Bumblebee's optics rounded and drooped slowly. Utter horror covered his faceplate within astroseconds and he chin began to tremble. His audios had to be malfunctioning. They had to be.

_"I offlined her in a breem's time, youngling."_

"N-No," Bumblebee breathed, tears blurring his vision. "N-No, y-you…you didn't…"

_"How weak she was…"_

"You d-didn't!!"

"Indeed I did kill her," Barricade snarled, his voice modulators crackling slightly in joy of the pleasant recollection. "Her energon was on my _claws_, youngling. The very one I hold you in at this moment."

Bumblebee shuddered suddenly and shrieked.

He was in the claw of his mother's murderer. Inches away from the optics that had pierced her very lifesource before her own was extinguished.

Before she uttered her final words…

_"__Bumblebee…" she had breathed, her voice barely there. "…L-Love you."_

Bumblebee suddenly felt defeated. Barricade tossed Bumblebee to the ground again, making the mechling roughly hit the wall. Pain shot up his side and he slowly looked up at the Decepticon. His audios picked up the sharp shing as Barricade unleashed his spikes, elongating his arms with a menacing chuckle. From behind the Decepticon, several more pairs of optics gleamed from the shadows, staring down directly at Bumblebee. As Barricade closer, a low rumble of laughter grew stronger, only making Bumblebee cry out in fear.

"N-No!!" he cried, squirming into a corner. "D-Don't hurt me!"

Barricade's spike lowered down to the youngling's neck, grazing the sensitive wires slowly as they teased and threatened to cut into them. Bumblebee's optics shut as tears continued to pour from them – Unstopping. Each of Barricade's footsteps, every Decepticon that joined in with the laughter at his pain, every astrosecond that went by…The Pit was his reality.

He clutched his chestplate in pain, shivering in the dark.

The horror of it all did nothing…

They only added to the scars that wounded his little blue spark.

**/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\**

**The Autobot Base **

"Optimus! Optimus! Sir!"

The Autobot commander jerked awake with his sparkmate sitting upright on top of him, his blue optics wide and attentive. He looked around frantically before focusing them on a form rushing into the room – A mech. The Autobot was armored in white and black armor with optics as deep of a green as they ever could be. His optics were wide, terrified as they stared in the commander's, his chestplate rising and falling whilst his intakes worked hard inside him. Elita shifted off of her mech as Optimus started to stand.

He set a massive, gentle hand against the young mech. The commander furrowed his brow and easily patted the mech's back.

"Soldier, what is your designation?"

The young mech took in a large intake of breath, lifting his green optics to the towering commander. He was a foot or so over half of Optimus' side, and still had much of his youth left in his optics and on his faceplate.

"Wh-What?"

"Your name, solider."

"Z-Zaidian," he told softly. "S-Sir, I was assigned patrol a-and…S-Sir, I saw them."

Elita One lifted herself to her feet, stepping at her mech's side. "Them? What're you talkin' about?"

Zaidian looked to the femme. "Y-Yes, two Decepticons…a-and…" He stopped, dropping his optics to the floor. A deep breath huffed softly from his intakes. "One of them…Th-They were holding someone…Sir."

Optimus' optics slitted slightly. "_Holding_ someone…?"

Elita blinked nervously. "Who…Who was it, Zaidian?"

Sorrow already hung in the air.

The young mech shuddered and shut his optics, before opening his mouth to tell them, "…A youngling," he said, opening his optics to them. "Y-Yellow…Blue optics, an Autobot insignia on his foreplate…They're taking him to their base."

That description…

Optimus shuddered. "No…" he breathed in absolute horror. "Bumblebee…"

"I'm sorry, Sir," Zaidian whispered. "I-I couldn't stop them…"

_You are so far away, but I'm so close to you.  
Your hands cover your eyes, but mine reach to hold you.  
Precious one, you know how much I love you.  
That is why you know how much I miss you…_

The poor bot…_Choked_ in fear.

He could only shudder at the images that entered his processor.

Optimus lowered his optics and their lids, feeling his spark practically die as it dropped inside its holding chamber. His worst fear – The precious youngling in the claws of a Decepticon. He knew more than well that the merciless sparks of the Decepticons would take no sympathy if Bumblebee was tormented. He knew they would laugh at his pain, his misery…Torture him until his interrogation was completed.

The commander curled his hands into fists, sighing deeply.

"Thank you, Zaidian," he said softly. "That will be all."

Zaidian hesitated. His mouth opened his mouth to speak, but stopped himself, turning on his heels before he departed from the commander's quarters. Elita looked to her saddened mech, slowly moving in front of him and moving her arms around his waist. Optimus' optics were glazed as he looked up to a window, seeming to not even notice his sparkmate. Regardless, his arms subconsciously moved themselves around her waist line, drawing her against his strong frame.

The femme's droopy optics blinked, her fingers stroking his faceplate. "Honey, it's late in the night," she whispered. "Come on…Recharge, baby. We'll find the youngling after dawn, Prime, don't you worry." She laid her receptor over his thrumming spark. "The little bot's got a strong spark, I've heard. You need not to worry, dear."

Optimus sat his chin on top of her candy colored helm and swayed back and forth, though never adverting his optics from that single window. He would kill to hear Bumblebee's voice again, just one more time…That tiny voice that whispered "I love you," the little faceplate that held those wide, brilliantly blue optics, and the bot that held one of the strongest sparks Optimus had ever seen a youngling behold.

_You are scared of the light which can break all your fear.  
I'm here right here, my beloved.  
I remember when you used to serenade me with our song.  
It's been so long…_

Too long…

_"I admit, I did miss you too little youngling. A breem alone without your bright little character is utter agony to me."_

_Bumblebee had smiled. "I can't last half of one without you…"_

Primus, that little voice…How he wanted to hold Bumblebee so. He wanted to hold him against his shoulder and kiss his little yellow helm, then whisper into his tiny audios, listening to every purr and twitter that hopped from his modulators.

Why did it have to be this way?

"Optimus…" Elita whispered again. "C'mon." Her hand took his, and he turned toward the berth. She took her usual position in his arms, letting him slide onto the metal, then lie down. Her receptor sat against his spark chamber, her fingers dancing along his side. Yes, the feelings were sensational and the moment was right, but it wasn't perfect.

No. Nothing would be right until Bumblebee was back against his chestplate, cradled in his arms. Until that very moment, when Bumblebee's spark beat against his own, the picture _would not_ be perfect.

_I will never forget how you always smiled when you knew I was near.  
But know, I'm still here.  
I'm right here…_

Listen to your spark, Bumblebee. Follow it.

"Little one," Optimus whispered, offlining his optics. "…Hold on."

Help was on the way.

* * *

Thanks to Airstriker for her wonderful help on which Autobots to choose for the rescue! Thanks so much, you rock:3


	11. Chapter XI: Your End Is Nigh!

Woww, I can only say sorry one thousand times for making all of you readers wait so long for this update. I'm so sorry! School, I was sick for a bit, after school stuff, friends...Ughhh, you know how it is, some of you. I did type a little each night, but today I bring it to all of you. Again, I apologize!

In this chapter, I try to use some G1'ers due to requests and such. I know nothing about G1, have never watched an episode lol. So, I'm sorry if some of the characters are not as they really are. I researched, but you can only get so much from the internet. Tell me how I did, please. And anymore requests on characters and other concepts are more than welcome.

The beginning may confused you, but I'm sure you'll figure out who the mech is. (Wink Wink.) It's not that confusing, I don't think.

So, here is chapter eleven! Enjoy please.

* * *

**Chapter Eleven: Your End Is Nigh **

**Location: Not Far from the Decepticon Base**

**Flashback: Unknown Third Party Perspective of Bumblebee's Abduction **

**Begin Transmission**

He had seen the Decepticons with the youngling and they would be hunted down.

The shadows of the night concealed most of his yellow and rich black-accented armoring, his electric blue optics piercing through the darkest shadows to the land before him. He walked through the groups of trees with only one goal fixed in his processor. One goal that was absolutely engraved on his spark…

A goal he thought he would never, ever establish.

Determination surged through his systems and burned in his optics like fire.

This goal would be accomplished and known to his processor alone.

The mech stumbled forward upon coming to a large indent in the Cybertronian ground. He looked down with a small gasp, his optics rounding as he noticed exactly what the indent was…No, it wasn't an indentation in the ground, it was a single footprint, larger than his own. It had talons for its claws, long, sharp and menacing.

"Primus…" he murmured.

No Autobot had talons – At least no Autobot he had ever come upon. This footprint belonged to a Decepticon, he was almost one hundred percent sure of it. Chills shot up his spine.

Who could this be? The abductor?

The air entering his intakes hitched and he stepped forward, trying to ignore what he had just seen. To his luck, his optics turned up to see a trail of the footprints, climbing and disappearing over a hill. His spark began beating quickly and he followed them, optics wide. He moved further away from the trees, the Cybertronian moons spilling light against his yellow and black armor. He looked to the ground, tracking the prints. He nearly froze when he discovered a second pair engraved beside the first.

God, he only hoped that the Decepticons weren't on the other side of the hill.

The mech shook his head, groaning. The fear subsided, he continued.

His optics fell over land before him. His intakes hissed out a breath of nervous air as he fixed his optics on the frame-shuddering sight before him.

"What the…"

His little bot was there?

A Decepticon base sat fixed deep at the base of the hill, slyly veiled among groups of trees. The sight in itself was intimidating and he could only contemplate from his safe distance. There was no way in the Pit he was moving closer to that base. Who knew what alarm systems and hidden booby traps – ones especially designed for a particular Autobot to stumble upon – could be hidden in those grounds.

Primus, anything could be going on inside. The yellow and black frame shuddered violently at the thought of Bee in pain, wriggling, screaming in absolute despair.

He could only pray. He could only set his faith upon murmured words of hope.

The mech's electric blue optics slitted and zeroed in to two Decepticon forms lumbering toward the base, but…What was that? Something _yellow_, something _tiny_ – Clutched in the claws of the fighter jet. The mech concentrated the heart of his vision even more, leaning forward with a perplexed faceplate. The form was indeed small, almost completely hidden in the hand that grasped it.

"N-No…" he breathed shakily.

The jet turned its broad shoulders at the perfect angle and gave him the glimpse he needed to see the little Autobot. A miniscule frame with yellow and black armoring, brilliant, wide blue optics that glimmered clearly even from such a distance, a red insignia on his foreplate, a tiny pair of wings…His processor didn't need to list on.

The horrible bottom line - Bee was in Decepticon claws.

The optics were enough to give the mechbot away, even the coloring itself. He wanted to run up and save the youngling, but who the hell would ever do such a stupid move? He would come back completely maimed – if he were lucky.

His spark dropped inside him, and he took a step forward as if going for the mechling. No, he couldn't and he wouldn't. There was no use. He wouldn't be like her, dying under the claws of a Decepticon. He wouldn't be the other to die before the bot.

But, he would do one thing. He guaranteed it. Get his son back.

Narrowing his optics, he stepped into the shadows, letting a mounted shoulder cannon dimly pulse itself to a warm glow, humming life. His yellow servos curled into fists at his side, a new kind of determination – an _anger_– boiling in the coolant that surged through him.

Optics beaming through the shadows, the mech growled lowly.

"No one ever takes _my_ son," he whispered. "…And gets away with it."

**End Flashback**

**End Transmission **

**xXx**

**The Autobot Base: Optimus' Quarters**

_Optimus stepped right, darted left, chasing the sounds of a youngling's scream of pain that echoed all around him. He could barely tell where he was going, blinded in anxiety, completely covered in it as if it were a stench. Another energon-curdling wail struck the air, literally hitching his ventilations at once._

_"Bumblebee!" his voice reverberated through the walls. _

_A horrible screech was his reply – One desperate, hopeless, and incredibly needy. It tore at his spark and twisted around it like a cobra, baring it fangs and piercing into its core. He shuddered with a groan and continued, optics electric blue in fright._

_"Daddy!"_

_"I'm coming, little one," he couldn't yell, but murmur as he fought the tears. _

_Astroseconds flew and he arrived at the cell…Just in time for nothing positive, for nothing he wanted to see and hoped never to see in the many eons of his lifetime._

_"Brother…Put him down," he demanded. _

_Megatron had the youngling in his claws, and at the sight, Optimus instantly drew out his weapon, aiming for his evil brother. The Lord only snickered, carelessly tossing Bee onto the ground with a rumbling growl._

_"You're too late, Optimus Prime," he snarled mockingly. "So sad…"_

_Optimus' gun shivered in his hand as his optics trailed down to the youngling. Bumblebee was flat on his doorwings, making neither movement nor the slightest sound. Suddenly, the bot thrashed in a sharp jolt, then sprawled awkwardly as his dying internals began to gave way...His pain-exhausted spark surrendering to the Well of Allsparks. _

_Optimus heard him murmur indistinct words under his final breath._

_Then all seemed frozen. _

_"Bumblebee…" he breathed._

_Megatron laughed at his brother's failure, blood red optics gleaming. "Go. There is nothing more to fight for, Brother," he purred sinisterly. "Your youngling is no more…"_

_The weapon dropped to the mech's side as his optics drooped like a dying flower's petals, a small noise of disbelief groaning from his throat. Megatron's horrible laughter rung in his audios._

_"N-No…" he gasped softly. _

_Optimus couldn't look away from the youngling that lay lifeless on the ground, energon beginning to pool under the tiny form. He could not believe his optics…Had he got on time, Bumblebee could be looking at him with those wide baby blues, shivering as Optimus murmured words of affection into those tiny audios. _

_Had he came on time, he would not have let the small of Bumblebee's life extinguish. _

_"Bumblebee…" he whispered again, closing his optics. What was he to say? I'm sorry? Letting one's life go was something that could never be covered up by forgiveness – Especially such a priceless, little life such as Bumblebee's._

_Forlorn, Optimus opened his optics for the last time to see Bumblebee's yellow head fall to the side, into the pool of blue energon. Megatron took the small corpse in his claw, and Optimus could only whisper, "Be with Primus, little one…How can you ever forgive me." _

_It was all over._

Optimus jolted awake with a thudding spark, optics darting left and right before they focused ahead, looking deeply into the blue optics of his sparkmate that lay on top of him. Elita One's metal lips twisted into a soft frown, the worried curve matching her faceplate's emotion perfectly.

"Prime, are you alright?" her sweet voice whispered, a hand gently coming against his cheekplate. She indicated his spark with her optics. "You seem rather frightened about _something_…"

Optimus stared at her in almost fear.

_A dream_, he thought. _It was a dream…No more._

Making a low sound in his throat, the mech looked away, falling back against the berth.

"It was nothing…" he lied, then twitched slightly as he mentally stabbed himself. "I-It was but a dream, Elita," he corrected. "Nothing more than a dream…Nothing more."

He repeated the words over and over, convincing himself to believe that the dream was merely a figment of his troubled imagination. His protecting arms wound around the femme's shoulders and eased her back against him, but her optics didn't advert. He could feel them on him.

"…Wanna tell me about it?" she whispered again.

He lowered his optic lids. "No, no…Recharge, Elita," he responded in a low tone. "You'll need much rest for the day ahead of us tomorrow." His hand rubbed into her back. "Sleep well, my love."

Without another word, the femme offlined her blue optics, sulking back to rest.

Optimus was left alone to the company of the haunting dream. A sigh left him, the circles in Elita' back becoming lazier as his processor drifted. He thought of Bumblebee, the bright-opticed youngling he missed so dearly. Too dearly.

There was a spot next to his spark that longed to be filled. Not even Elita, his own sparkmate, could seal the wound. Only a little, special blue heart could.

God, he hoped the bot's spark was still humming.

_Do you know how it feels,  
Lying here without you…?  
You could never understand, what's happening to me.  
So alone.  
Nothing's real…_

Optimus reopened his optics slowly, though kept them offline. Bumblebee's tiny voice ran through his mind, every little whirr and chirp. He shut his optics at the welling of tears.

"Stay strong, my little one," he murmured barely. "There is no way in the universe that I will not save you…That you shall not be in my arms again."

Bumblebee would be saved. Optimus was willing to put his life before him for the youngling's survival. No bot deserved such fear and torment. Every ones' life was precious.

_It's so hard to believe I don't have you right beside me.  
As I long to touch you, but you're out of my reach._

He could almost feel the tiny servos against his chest as the bot would curl himself up on top of his spark chamber. The feeling made him make a noise of sorrow, a groan almost as he 

felt Bumblebee curl against his neck and tuck his head. It felt so real, but when he looked, there was no one. There would be no one until…Primus knows when.

The very thought of that made his spark twist inside him.

_And my heart doesn't feel.  
It's so very cold inside me.  
Just a shadow of someone that I used to be…_

A dead weight, that's all his spark was. Just there, sitting inside him, taking up space. It was nothing without Bumblebee - The youngling's spark was a tiny blue beacon, and its size did not matter. Though small, it could make his mightier spark feel drenched in love and guide him to the highest degree of happiness. No youngling's spark could do the same. Bumblebee's was incredibly unique, and incredibly special.

_You were the only one that I allowed inside my heart.  
Now I'm just holding on to something so far gone.  
Where did I go wrong…? _

Optimus blamed himself for the youngling's abduction. Had he turned around, had his audios been just a little more on that high alert, Bumblebee could be curled in his arms right now. He swore under his breath, shuddering again. Nausea churned in his fuel tanks.

_I would give my all to have you here.  
Just to hold you once again.  
Just to hold you once again…_

If he were to find Bumblebee in any dire pain, no type of revenge would be too great.

**Inside the Decepticon Base**

**Bumblebee's Confinement Cell**

Bumblebee could barely keep his optics open, feeling as if a weight pressed down on both of his optics covers. He tried to forcefully prod himself from the unconscious state, groaning all the while. A single yellow hand tremored as it moved to his chest, hardly able to clutch a bleeding wound below his air intakes. The struggle to take in the smallest amount of air wasn't it a struggle any longer, it was a battle in itself. His systems behaved awkwardly, revving inside him at random times, groaning as they too labored extensively to the point of overdrive.

Stay awake. Stay alive.

He couldn't fall into unconsciousness. What if he didn't wake up? He couldn't recharge around the presence of blood thirsty, merciless Decepticons. No - No matter how great the struggle became, he would not fall into that trap. If he wanted to see Optimus again, if he wanted to be held and loved like no other, he had to stay awake.

A low growl echoed above one of his audios and the wounded youngling groaned softly in reply, slowly moving his cheekplate against the cold ground. Droopy optics turned upward only to see a massive claw wrap its sharp digits around his frame, digging in through the crevices between the yellow plating that hid his sensitive wires. Bumblebee squeaked in pain, his voice modulators barely able to create a voice.

"Ohhh," he moaned.

The mechbot rotated and lie on his back, fluttering up his lids to meet two blood red optics. Bumblebee's entire frame shivered as a hideous smile, full of wickedness and disgust, curled on the Decepticon's metal lips. Bumblebee only saw pure malevolence in the mech that held him. There was nothing friendly about him at all – Bumblebee felt no warm spark near.

And such a cold spark had to belong to the Lord himself.

"Online…?" Megatron snarled in question, holding the bot closer to his optics. "How unexpected…" He groaned, optics glowering._ "Starscream!" _

The jet's footsteps reverberated quickly through the metal flooring, followed by two more quick pairs. At the mouth of the mechbot's holding cell appeared Starscream's broad-shoulder form. At his sides stood the fighter jet subordinates Thundercracker and Skywarp.

Thundercracker's optics rounded slightly at the sight of Megatron's own beaming into his, and the jet slowly stood straighter, elbowing a huffing Skywarp in the side. Skywarp growled with narrowed optics, crossing his arms across his chest.

Starscream hissed, putting on a sly grin for his Lord. "You called, my Lord?"

Skywarp snorted. "Called? …More like - "

"Mute it, Skywarp."

Megatron rose, squeezing the youngling in his claw. Bumblebee quaked, wide optics staring in fear.

"Have you seen any sign of the Autobots," Megatron said in an angry smile.

Starscream shook his head. "No sign of the Autobots, my Lord," he told him proudly. "As from our aerial positions in the sky, no forces have been detected."

"Excellent," Megatron growled. The tip of a digit grazed over the red Autobot insignia fixed on the bot's foreplate, his red optics narrowing. Hate surged through and burned his systems, making him growl louder with a rumbling in his chest.

"You'll be a fine solider in the Decepticon army," he whispered menacingly to the shuddering mechbot. "With a new paint job and change of spark…You'll be perfect."

Bumblebee whimpered and quaked in fear. The last thing he wanted was to be a _Decepticon youngling_ – Who knew how these monsters treated their little ones? And frag no, he wasn't going to be the guinea pig to find out.

Pale blue rivulets of tears poured from each of his optics…Primus, he had never been so afraid, never felt so isolated from the ones he loved – From his heroes.

Megatron's gleaming optics eyed the second in command, then the two subordinates at his side. He growled. "Take the skies again for the next several cycles," he ordered. "Until dawn. If you do not suspect any Autobot forces…" He laughed lowly. "I doubt that they shall suspect the youngling's location."

Starscream hissed in agreement. "Yes, my Lord." He bowed forward with Thundercracker, growling at the slow subordinate stood stupidly at his side. "Bow, you pathetic Decepticon," he muttered. "Bow to your _Lord_."

Skywarp gave a small bow of respect, suddenly realizing. If not obvious, he was the dumb one.

In unison, the jets lifted and departed from their leader's presence – And of course, they all walked out in an orderly fashion, except for Skywarp's always present dimwitted ways.

Megatron's red optics shifted back to the youngling in his hands, a sinister grin stretching across his dark faceplate. He growled low in his chest, bringing the mechbot close to him.

"By dawn, you shall be my own little warrior," he purred evilly, optics flashing in a way that made Bumblebee shudder. "Even if the Autobots do in fact discover your location…" He chuckled deeply, squeezing Bumblebee. The yellow bot cried. "…They shall be defeated – Once and for all."

**xXx**

**Dawn at the Autobot Base **

"Mirage."

"Present, Boss," said the mech, revealing himself from camouflage

"Prowl."

"Yes, Sir," the tactition replied.

"Jazz, Ironhide, Ratchet…"

A chorus of "Yeah's," and, "Here's."

"Chromia." Optimus looked up to the light blue femme. She smiled faintly.

"M'here," she called, wrapping her arms around one of Ironhide's. Her head fell on his steel colored shoulder, his soon falling on top. She purred at him. "Ready to kick aft too…" She looked into her mech's ice blue optics. "…With you of course."

"Oh please," snorted Sideswipe. "Let's at least try and stay focused here, instead of cooin' in each other's audios for once."

"Ah, mute it, Sides," the femme retorted with a glare in her optics. "It's been vorns since I've seen my mechy-boo." She giggled.

"Mechy-boo…" echoed Sides. "Primus, how corny."

Sunstreaker sighed. "Sides, _mute it_ already. Each and every one of us knows you're only envying them." He grinned quirkily. "As you do to every mech and femme pairing you see."

Optimus sighed. "Here we go again…"

Hot Rod wound his arms around Arcee, drawing her against him. "Yeah, don't get your circuits in a bunch, Sides," he grinned. "Your mate'll come around sooner er later."

Sideswipe sulked and ignored the red mech's comment, shooting a sideways glare at his twin. "Sunny, you don't even have one," he shot, holding his hands out. "Wipe that grin off your faceplate before I do with my fists."

Sunstreaker rolled his optics. "I may not yet, but I am the most beautiful thing in the universe – Not to mention my wonderful personality."

"You mean your egotistic, notorious, and difficult-to-work with ways?" snapped Sides.

The twin frowned, his boasting smirk gone. "…I was thinkin' more along the lines of - "

"Right, right…"

"_Staying on topic_," interjected Optimus, giving the twins a skeptical look. "As you all may or may not know already, this mission is a search and rescue for - "

"For who?" butt in Sides.

"A youngling…" continued the Autobot Commander. "Yesterday evening, the mechling was pronounced missing, and as his newfound guardian, it is my responsibility _especially_ that this little one is found and brought from harm."

"Don't you worry about it, Prime," Hot Rod assured, setting his chin on top of his candy colored femme's head. "You've got a solid team here."

Optimus smiled slightly, feeling Elita One's hand take his. He looked down.

"Honey, there's no way we're letting any Decepticon take him away forever," she said softly. "Never could we do that."

Another chorus of 'Yeah's."

"Yeah, so don' worry," Jazz smiled.

Mirage nodded at the teams positivity, feeling a smile grow on his faceplate. He looked to his Autobot commander, nodding once as the grin grew from receptor to receptor.

"We won't let you down."

**xXx**

**Inside the Decepticon Base**

**Bumblebee's Confinement Cell**

Bumblebee woke up in a jolt at the sound of his little fuel tanks grumbling, a single servo brushing over the yellow plating as he made an upset whirr. He was alone – No Megatron, no trio of jets – Only alone to the solitude of his dreary holding cell.

The yellow bot curled into a tight ball in a corner, shivering, contracting his form as if to produce a heat. The plan only failed, and his reward, so to speak, was only another hungry grumble from his tanks.

"Mmmmm," he groaned. "Ohh…"

He had only been here for mere Earth hours, but it felt like complete vorns. Primus, if Optimus and the others couldn't find him, or didn't find him in time, Megatron's intentions would be _reality_. He would become a Decepticon youngling, demanded and ordered to force everything that was Autobot out of his mind and spark. He would become completely hardened, an evil, sinister little bot…

He couldn't even picture such a thing.

He didn't want that. The very thought sent shivers all around him.

The Decepticon's plan to obliterate the Autobot base was coming along just as they wanted. Step one, kidnapping the youngling, had been accomplished with simple trickery and a cube of sweet energon. Step two – Getting Optimus' processor into a mess of worry and even fear for Bumblebee's condition, thus stalling him in any means of a rescue. And soon, they would initiate their main attack on the base.

But, little did they know that help was already on the way.

"Soundwave," a low voice rasped from down the hall, a distance from the cell. "Report."

"Yes, Megatron," the monotone voice responded astroseconds later.

Bumblebee's head perked upright, antennae lifting. He shook in despair.

"N-No…"

He knew they would be coming again.

"I want you to check on the youngling's status," the Decepticon purred sinisterly. "…Make sure his spark is still intact…Pay no mind to his _needs_."

"Yes, Megatron."

Upon Soundwave's approaching, Bumblebee quaked in fear, curling up in the darkest part of the shadows. He offlined his optics and buried his head in his arms, hoping the Decepticon would not spot him. He even hitched his ventilations, holding his air intake valves as tight as he could. He dared not produce the slightest bit of sound from his vocal processors.

Thud, thud, thud…

His attempts were nothing. Soundwave appeared behind the thick bars of the cell, undoing the locks with sharp _click, click, clicks_ and a final _hiss_. The cell gave way to the Decepticon, and the bluish mech stepped inside, optics gleaming down at the youngling.

Bumblebee didn't move. He felt Soundwave's optics on him even as he was hidden in the darkest of the shadows, even as he made no sound whatsoever. The mech's scanners were no match to his futile attempts.

A servo wrapped around the tiny yellow body, a thick thumb rotating Bumblebee only his back. Wide baby blues stared in utter fear, little fear shivering uncontrollably. He gulped, watching as Soundwave's optics glowered back.

Bumblebee's tanks grumbled again, making Soundwave arch an optic ridge. The youngling whimpered, holding his tanks with his tiny servos.

Soundwave tilted his head slightly.

His baby blues stared in complete innocence – How anyone could stand such an adorable faceplate was a mystery in itself.

"E-Energon…?" Bee's tiny voice questioned softly. "Pl-Please…"

Soundwave narrowed his optics, and clicked on a communication channel. "Youngling requests energon. Shall I grant him?"

"Do no such thing," was the quick, harsh reply. "He will be fed when _allowed_."

Bumblebee sulked in Soundwave's hand, his little protoform's hydraulics groaning in the heavy need for the blue fluid. His systems revved, too, deprived, his optics drooping. His alerts sounded, screaming for rest and nourishment. Recharge in such a place only added to the weight on his spark and the pain in his internals. And the nourishment wasn't coming anytime soon.

The mech's thumb rested on Bumblebee's spark chamber, feeling, analyzing. Soundwave clicked once as established a communications channel with his leader, listening through the clearing static and temporary white noise. It cleared.

"Youngling's spark is still intact, my liege."

"Perfect," the commander hissed. "Within megacycles, out plan shall be well underway."

**xXx**

**During: In Cognito**

"I'm in, Sir. I've found him."

Hidden in plain sight, Mirage slipped into the confinement cell, watching with harsh optics as Soundwave clutched the small youngling in the palm of a single servo. His optics intensified to an almost blinding electric blue, glaring at Soundwave as he did nothing to nourish the starving bot. How he wanted to just pounce on the Decepticon and fire like all Hell.

But, no, such a move would be foolish.

He would wait. Timing was the _key_.

"Excellent, Mirage," came the commander's voice in private com. "What do you see?"

Mirage's optics first focused on the small of Bee's body, how bright and yellow it was with the sharp black accents. Those optics were utterly imploring and the way his faceplate was scrunched sent flutters to his spark.

Bee was so cute. Probably one of the reasons the Boss loved him so.

"I see the youngling…"

"Anything more?"

His acute audios shifted to high intent, listening as Soundwave conversed with his Lord. Mirage perceived both ends of the line – How foolish, Soundwave had not activated a private channel. It was open to all audios, in the base, within reasonable distance.

"Youngling's spark is still intact, my Lord."

"Perfect. Within Earth hours, out plan will be well underway."

"A Decepticon."

"Designation?"

"Soundwave, Sir." He stepped forward silently. "I'm taking him down. Over and out."

The channel clicked.

Mirage grinned slowly, easing closer toward Soundwave. He stepped behind the mech, and in mere astroseconds, he had him in a death lock around the neck, pulling back with every bit of strength harvested within him. Metal groaned as the Decepticon's throat was crushed.

Soundwave shuddered in surprise, his servo opening. Bumblebee squeaked as he fell on the floor, wide optics watching as absolutely nothing – _Pure air_ – choked Soundwave. Making tiny noises of fear, he quaked as Soundwave's ventilations hitched in a sharp click, and the mech sulked to the floor. He was still.

Out of thin air slowly appeared Mirage, his form looming over Bumblebee. He held out a gentle palm to the bot, but Bumblebee crawled away. He shook his head no, curling in the corner. Mirage's optics warmed.

"By no means am I going to hurt you, little one," he spoke softly, wiggling his fingers as he held out his palm again. "C'mon. Look…" He indicated his Autobot symbol. "Autobot. Friend…I'm your comrade, little one."

Bumblebee hesitated.

"…Autobot. Friend…Comrade."

Hope.

Baby blues stared directly into Mirage's as he crawled into the mech's palm, letting the gentle fingers curl around him. Another servo cupped around him and Bumblebee found himself being drawn toward the mech's spark. It thrummed warmly by his audio receptors, steady, unwavering, and gallant like a true Autobot's. Bee laid his audio over it and Mirage held him there, letting the bot listen to his blue heart.

The Autobot clicked on a channel to Optimus. "I have the youngling in my hands, Sir," he said, smiling at the bot. Bumblebee smiled back, giggling softly.

"How is his condition?" Optimus sounded nearly desperate.

Mirage noted a wound on the youngling's chest, bleeding, but not severely. He nodded to himself. "A chestplate wound, open, but nothing more I can see on the outside."

"Mmm," the commander said lazily. "Camouflage. I have you coordinates. We will attack soon."

Suddenly, Mirage looked down at the temporarily unconscious Decepticon at his feet with widened optics, Bee looking too as the click of an establishing communications channel sounded. Static hissed and gradually cleared.

Megatron.

"Wait, Optimus," Mirage said, initiating his camouflage, Bumblebee squeaking as he too disappeared. "Hold on…"

"Soundwave…Soundwave, report!" the evil voice demanded.

Static hissed – The only reply. Mirage stiffened as Megatron roared. Soundwave would never ignore his Lord's orders without a reason, and what reason could he have at this time? Signs only pointed to one thing in Megatron's processor.

An Autobot had impeded.

"I know you are _there_ Autobot!" the evil Lord growled harshly. "Your end is _nigh_."

"Optimus they know I'm here…Megatron knows," Mirage reported.

"Hold your position," was the calm response. "...The battle will soon be underway."

* * *

Thanks for reading! Please review all.


	12. Chapter XII: Battle for Bee, Part I

This chapter begins the battle for the Autobots' rescue for the little one, and it had to be divided into parts, something I hadn't planned beforehand. The entire chapter twelve was over 20 pages...I didn't want anyone to be like, O.O...Y'know. I just got off typing and didn't even notice the page numbers rackin' up. It felt short when I was typing, but...Ah well. This shouldn't be too, too long. I hope it isn't for anyone. If it is, lemme know.

I had alotta fun with this chapter, especially the battle scenes. xD I've never written alot of action before, at least not this kind, and it was new for me. I hope I did an okay job, tell me how you liked them/didn't like 'em/etc, etc.

Anyhoo, have a fun reaaddd. I'll be looking forward to your reviews and comments.

* * *

**Chapter Twelve: The Battle for Bumblebee, Part I **

**Inside the Decepticon Base**

**Bumblebee's Confinement Cell: Half a Breem Later**

They remained silent in the darkest corner of the chamber, stirring in the leaden quiet that had wrapped around them like a heavy cloak, bearing down on their shoulders with its great weight. Mirage remained quiet in his camouflage as he merged into the depths of the gloom, becoming the shadows themselves whilst softly stroking an uneasy Bumblebee. Tremoring whines skipped out from the little one's throat, sudden and uneven with his hitching air intakes. Fear began overtaking his molecules, one, by one, by one.

His guardian stole a glance at the invisible mechling, and he could picture tear-glazed optics staring up at him. Bumblebee longed for warmth and affectionate coos in his audios – perhaps even a cube of energon to drink down – but such things could hardly be given _now_. He knew that they had to stay silent, and he tried his best to, although the action soon became a great struggle. His tiny servos curled around his guardian's digits.

Mirage, on the other hand, was growing impatient with each astrosecond that clicked by. The one thing he wanted now was reinforcements, maybe even a little communication check in with Prime. But, he knew better, and sighed just as Bumblebee began to whimper again. His digits brushed. "Shhh, we have to stay quiet, little one," he informed cooingly. "Shhh…I'm here. You have no reason to be scared, okay?"

Bumblebee couldn't help it. So many thoughts ran through his processor, hording every fragment of his mind – there was Optimus, the haunting memories of his fallen brother and creators, this life or _death_ situation he was trapped in, and the brewing massacre begging to be unleashed just right outside…

How was it possible to _not_ be scared?

The bot hiccupped with the sound of a sob. "I'm scared," he shuddered. "I wanna go home." He curled inward and ducked his little head, crying into his knees. "…S-Scared."

The mech cupped his large servo around Bumblebee's quaking frame, _tsk tsk tsking_ when he heard yet another shivering whimper stutter from the sparkling's vocal processors. He shook his head whilst drawing the bot against his spark chamber, watching with love-drooped optics as Bumblebee set one audio against the warm metal to listen to his spark.

Mirage smiled softly. "See? Hey, it's gonna be okay, little one," he said in a voice that barely passed as a whisper. He lifted Bumblebee closer to his mouth, cradling him in gentle fingers and hands. "You know I'm not letting those 'Cons touch you. I would _never_ let them."

An unnerved whirr shivered out. "Never ever?"

"Yes, never ever. On no account, by no means, will I let them touch you."

Bumblebee shuddered a final time though managing a small smile, but the mech wouldn't allow it. Wide optics looked up to a kind faceplate, though seeing invisibility. He blinked in utter innocence with a tilt of his head. A voice chuckled, as if Mirage could see him, then hushed him as he whirred as the hand beneath Bumblebee's yellow bottom cupped deeper. Tender digits clawed affectionately against the little one's upper thighs and hip compartments.

"Please understand that," Mirage sighed. "I'll be here for as long as you need me."

Bumblebee purred, acknowledging, although nervousness still betrayed.

"Oh…Oh-Okay," the little voice murmured.

"That's right," Mirage grinned. He separated a finger from the rest, and then did the same to the others, fanning each out widely like a starfish. Digits brushed up and down Bumblebee's back, temporarily fiddling with the mechling's hypersensitive doorwings, making them flutter. The bot lifted his mini servos and clutched at Mirage's spark chamber, nuzzling his cheekplate slowly without a hint of a smile. His wide optics flicked to the ground as a thought emerged, deeper worry crossing his faceplate.

"Do you think th-they're okay?" came his little voice, sputtering as he cried softly. "I h-hope Daddy's not hurt…"

An optic ridge arched. "Daddy?"

Bee nodded quickly, twittering to himself. "Opmis…"

Mirage smiled at the bot's mispronunciation and traced a finger between his doorwings before he slowly rubbed lazy circles into Bumblebee's helm. He tilted his head in ponder.

"You consider Optimus your _father_?"

Tears blurred the youngling's vision, his words hitching. Bumblebee winced as his processor refused to open his mouth, refused to will the painful words to come out. His little throat funneled tightly before he cried, tears then trickling down his faceplate. Mirage listened in near horror, shaking his head at the unintentional pain he had caused.

"Little one, no, no, no," he protested softly, cradling the tiny bot into the crook of his neck. "No, quiet…I didn't mean to cause this."

Tiny hands clawed into his shoulder panels, little feet digging into his upper chestplate as the bot tried to squirm higher. Mirage supported the sparkling with a palm returning beneath his yellow bottom, propping him up with a light bounce. Bumblebee's head snuggled against his neck, tears tickling down Mirage's shoulder.

"Mmmmm…" Bumblebee hummed as he cried.

Mirage winced. "I won't go further…" he whispered, pressing his face against Bumblebee's neck. His optic lids closed for a mere moment. The simple word of _father_ rendered an unexpected reaction from the mechling, and though his instinct was to inquire further, he rested his case. If anything, he did not want to cause such a tiny and fragile being even _more_ painful scars to his lifesource. His duty was to protect, not destroy – Protecting the delicate bot's spark, preventing any more wounds, was one of Mirage's greatest duties until Bumblebee grew up. Until the sparkling in his hands became a mech…No more an absolutely adorable, twittering, innocent little bot.

He shook his head with a small grunt, killing the thought. Primus, he didn't want to think of that now. As if trying to retain Bumblebee's tender age, Mirage clutched the bot tighter.

He shifted back to the bot's question. "To answer you, little one, I guarantee you Optimus is okay. They _all_ are. Don't - "

"How do you know?" Bee interjected softly and cocked his head, worry clear in his voice and wide optics. His stare carried through for many astroseconds, forcing Mirage to reassure him.

The Autobot mech slowly adverted. "Optimus would have contacted us _immediately_ had the battle began," he said softly, shifting in his seated position. "Don't worry, alright? We're winning this for _you_, little one."

Bumblebee's intakes made a soft huff, and Mirage knew that the little bot was grinning up at him. "Really? You all came for _me_?" The mechling sounded too grateful. He squeaked. Tears still glimmered in his optics, but a smile betrayed every droplet.

"Yes, we did," Mirage chuckled lightly. "There's no way in the _Pit_ we were letting these Decepticons keep you. Come tomorrow, you'll be home in a recharge berth again…With all the energon you can gulp down." His forefingers brushed Bumblebee's throat and fuel tanks as he grinned slowly. "I'm sure you'd like that, hmm?"

Bumblebee sighed happily with a nod at the thought, feeling Mirage ease him deeper against his spark chamber with digits brushing along his throat. He hummed. "Mmm…I can't wait," the bot chirped, rubbing his hungry tanks. "I'm hungry…"

"Yes…Neither can I, neither can I," Mirage agreed lazily. His large fingers grazed over the youngling's chestplate, feeling a trickle of warm energon and coolant drip onto his finger. He furrowed his brow and withdrew. "Your wound…" He blinked, foreshadowing the bot's response to his query. "Are you in _pain_, little one?"

Bee whirred. "K-Kinda," he stammered. "…Hurts."

"How much?"

"Medium." There was a very slight playful edge in the mechling's voice.

Mirage nodded barely. "Alright. Once Ratchet fixes you up, you'll be good as new."

Bee chirped. "Really?"

"Yeah, really." Mirage smiled, then suddenly stopped himself, blinking. He tilted his head with a crooked smile. Optimus told them they were executing this mission to save a youngling. Yes, a _youngling_, but he never learned the bot's name. "What's your name, little one?"

He heard the little yellow thing giggle softly, tiny servos prodding curiously at where Mirage's spark lay. "Bumblebee," he chirped almost boastingly, grinning. "What's yours?"

The mech chuckled. "Mirage," he told him. "'Age, Mirage…Whatever you want."

"Mirage…" Bee echoed, then giggled again. "I like that name."

The mech could only grin from receptor to receptor. The bot was a little bundle of joy despite the situation they were stuck in. Mirage forgot about the war, instead focusing on the feeling of Bumblebee wriggling in his hands, just feeling his tiny bottom bounce in his large palm. Younglings were rare – extremely rare in fact – and Mirage vowed on his life that Bumblebee would be rescued.

_Cross my spark and hope to die_, he thought to himself, his grin widening.

Bumblebee giggled again, then nuzzled his audio into the warm spark chamber. A long-lost feeling of security swept over him and glowed on his faceplate, causing a happy whirr to leave his throat. He felt safe in Mirage's hands, like he used to whenever one of his creators held him. That feeling of loving arms around you as your frame rattled gently by a near, warm spark was to long for – and tender words of affection whispered into your audios brought indescribable security. Each word was a melody to him, a lullaby in itself – Singing, humming,_ crooning_ in gentle tenderness.

A little TLC – It's all he needed.

Mirage glanced down to the bot against his spark, a permanent smile seemingly engraved on his faceplate. His fingers stroked and brushed to and fro against the bot's stomach, like dark legs dancing atop a bright yellow stage.

Bee giggled. "Tickles," he twittered. The little one's body extended and sprawled awkwardly in Mirage's hands, granting the mech's tender fingers access to his entire front chassis. Mirage stroked unhesitantly, slowly, his digits rattling whenever the mechling laughed.

"Tickle _now_?" he grinned.

An, "Uh uh," and whirr were his, "no." Every noise that came from the little one intrigued him – Everything from giggles to chirps to even hisses whenever he threw a tantrum – But, Mirage hadn't became a witness to those outbursts just yet. _Thank Primus._

Well, the thought transfixed him in a daydream where they, all of the Autobots, were back at their base with their new youngling addition. Perhaps Mirage would get to witness Bumblebee evolve from this adorable, apple plump-cheekplated bundle of wonder to a full-fledged mech – An Autobot _warrior_.

Primus, what a thought.

Swaying Bee against his chestplate, Mirage closed his optics. He couldwait vorns upon end until the day when Bumblebee would grow. He begged time to be slow from here on out. Mirage prayed Bumblebee would be a little youngling for as long as possible – To the very _second_ of the end of that time span.

_Let time take its time. _

"I promise to get you out of here, Bee," he whispered. "I'll do anything to ensure safety."

_Bee_. The bot chirruped happily with a grin.

But, before Bumblebee could even open his mouth to give his gratitude, a roar echoed from way down the dark hallway, cutting into their moment of tender love. They had almost forgotten where they were, blinded by their special moment in the shadows. Bumblebee grasped.

Mirage re-contemplated - _The Decepticons know I am here_, he told himself.

Bumblebee turned his gaze to the mouth of the cell, shivering as he remembered Megatron, the three fighter jets…Barricade. Wide baby blue optics looked to Soundwave who still lay on the cold ground, making no hint of movement since the moment he had fallen. That made him shiver. He realized– Soundwave could awake _any_ breem now.

Mirage stroked Bee quickly, killing the whines and whimpers that grew in his throat.

"M-Mirage…" came the quaking call.

"I'm here," the Autobot whispered.

"What if they come back again, 'Age? What if they come back?" Bee trembled, curling in his fear. He whined. "I-I'm scared."

The bot's hope was growing slimmer with each astrosecond.

Mirage dropped his optics. "They," that had to mean the enemy. He shook his head and pulled deeper into the shadows, optics fixed on the mouth of the cave. "You have to remain quiet, little one," he murmured. "Shhh…We must act like we're _not_ here." Mirage pressed his forefinger against Bumblebee's mouth. "Quiet…"

Nothing further.

The bot began to speak, but skipped to shuddering, burying his head deep into Mirage's chestplate. Tears welled in his optic ducts as haunted feelings swept over him. He didn't want to be like Sparkfire, nor his mother or his father. Primus, he was but a youngling in the tenderest vorns of his life. No Autobot wanted their Bumblebee _dead_, and he surely didn't want it either. Even if it meant seeing his family again – Death was not a favored option in any way.

Another roared resonated. Fear shadowed his faceplate as Bumblebee looked to the cell entrance again, shivering as Mirage's hand cupped against the back of his head.

How confidence could die in astroseconds was astounding.

How his survival became a doubt, and no longer a certainty.

**xXx**

**Outside the Decepticon Base**

Optimus stepped over the hillside with hard-edged seriousness engraved on every platelet of his faceplate, a new determination sweeping through him as his optics scanned over the Decepticon base, the intimidating structure composed from a bland gray and the trademark purple tinted metal. The exterior was but the _exterior_. He knew damn well that inside was an entirely different story. His processor frequently reminded him of their ambition – The youngling. It almost pained him to imagine Bumblebee in a cell with hardly a drop of energon, barely any light, Decepticons looming over him…But now, Mirage was there. The Autobot mech had a spark of gold, and surely would soften the weight of fear that constricted Bumblebee's tiny spark.

The commander sighed. Where would they be an orn from now? Home at their base? Or still fighting for Bumblebee's custody – Perhaps even discovering the bot's _death_. He shuddered, forcing such thoughts away. He had to get it together, fraggit. Such thoughts would do nothing, but bring them down.

Optimus didn't move when Elita slowly wound her arms around one of his, her shoulders rounding with her sulking frame and a soft huff of a sigh.

"Primus, the poor mechling," she whispered, looking over the base with drooping optics. Her mouth pursed and twisted as she winced a little. "I can only imagine, Prime…They could be doing _anything_ to such a sweet, sweet, little bot." Her optics flicked away. "Frag them and their ruthless ways…"

Optimus looked away without a word. He understood every bit of his femme's heated worry, for his own could be easily related. He sighed. "Bumblebee is in Mirage's care. He shouldn't be harmed."

Elita loosened her arms and pulled them away. "But, they _discovered_ Mirage. Megatron is in there, Prime, and you know he'll only laugh if Mirage tries to fight back."

The commander drew his arms around her shapely frame, surrounding her with the warmth and protection only his embraces could bring. He brought his metal lips softly against her foreplate, listening to her hum worriedly.

"Optimus," she whined, optics dropped to the ground.

"Megatron's forces will _not_ overcome us, or Mirage," he murmured into one audio. "You and I will fight side by side, Elita. I won't leave you in harm's way."

"But, the youngling, Prime…"

He shook his head slowly. "Please, do not worry," he said, despite all the anxiety running through his processor. Optimus managed a small smile.

The femme sighed, stealing a glance at the base. "I know, it's just…I haven't held a bot in _so_ long. It's been so many _vorns_," she breathed, a smile betraying her worry. "You know how it is…Just the feeling of a little life squirming and wriggling in your arms. The feelings your spark gets just holding a bot against you. That simple smile on a youngling's faceplate that makes your _entire_ orn." She was probably ranting, but she didn't care. Motherly sensations washed over her like a gentle wave, making her smile only widen.

It was the way every femme was wired, with maternal instincts, the technical term for it.

It had been so long since the instincts had been initiated from the vorns of harvesting inside her. She didn't want to wait another astrosecond, nor go through the carnage of a battle to earn the rightful safekeeping of Bumblebee.

"Elita, the youngling will be in your arms sooner than you're thinking," Optimus whispered, pressing his cheekplate against hers. The femme looked in the direction of his optics, watching his mouth kiss beside hers, then looked away. "I don't want you worried, my love."

Elita smiled slowly. "I won't be worried."

Optimus' mouth curved into a wonderful grin.

"Prime," Hot Rod's voice called from behind the couple. "I think we should get going. Doesn't look like they want to attack first." The mech gave a crooked smile. "Looks like the welcome mat's out, and it's all ours."

Optimus slid his arms from around Elita's candy-colored frame, straightening his stature as his optics met Hot Rod's. "We best divide into separate units. Attacking as one will only make us a larger target."

Hot Rod nodded and grabbed Arcee's hand, eyeing the others who dared give him skeptical looks. The femme blinked in surprise, sulking down even.

"Hot Rod, what are you _doing_?" she whispered, optics flaring.

"You're my _partner_," he answered almost dryly.

Everyone waited for the next to speak up.

Sideswipe looked amongst the group of Autobots, raising his servos in question. "Any… volunteers?" The question lingered in the air for astroseconds and of course…

No volunteers – But, what did he expect? A _crowd_?

Someone had to step up.

"Anyone," sighed the commander.

Groaning heavily, Sunstreaker dragged a foot forward. "Why do I feel like I'm already regretting this?" he muttered, slapping his foreplate into a palm.

His twin snorted. "You're the egotistical, hard-to-work-with one," he retorted.

Optimus sulked. He didn't even bother.

_Here we go again…_

"He's right, you know," Chromia added in a grin.

"Aren't I always?"

The golden mech said no words as his feet dragged in the dirt, trailing lines like tire tracks, his frame sulking all the while before he took his position beside his brother. Sideswipe scoffed and crossed his arms.

"You can buddy up with someone else, y'know. If you want to hurt my feelings even _more_, go right ahead."

Sunstreaker suddenly stood straight up. "Seriously?"

"Stay where you are," droned Optimus, closing his optics for a moment.

"Ah', frag…"

Sideswipe swallowed the urge to burst out laughing.

The commander sighed. "Enough of this. Time is of the essence," Optimus redirected the conversation, optics shifting to his weapons specialist and second-in-command. "Ironhide, Jazz…" He nodded.

Jazz scratched his head as he looked around the group, blinking at the light blue colored femme before he approached her. An optic ridge arched on her angular, yet appealing faceplate, her hands latching to her sides as she shifted her weight to a side, her mouth twisting. The Second stood before her, gesturing lazily.

"Hey, you wanna - "

"Don't even _think_ about it." Ironhide growled as he wound his arms around Chromia's petite set of pale shoulders, claiming his partner in crime with seriousness concealed in his electric blue optics. Jazz stepped away with a look of mock fear on his faceplate, his hands thrown into the air in surrender.

"Alright, alright, easy there," he chuckled, ceasing his steps. "I wasn't gonna _steal_ 'er." His dark pair of optics shifted to Prowl, and with a single nod, the duo unit was formed.

"We're set," Jazz reported coolly.

A grunt from Ironhide as he kissed his femme was his, "Good to go."

All units were established.

Optimus nodded once, then indicated the base with a slight angling of his head. "Take various positions around the base and do take heed of their alarm systems. Stay within a safe radius, and remain as secretive as possible. That means private communications _only_ – Open more than one only if you _must_."

A chorus of Yessirs and understoods rose among the group.

Optimus watched as the separate units departed in various directions, weapons arming and loading, optics scanning with high alert-molded processors. Optimus' femme waited patiently at his side as her sparkmate clicked on an active private communications channel between himself and Mirage, hoping to find them still undiscovered in the shadows and camouflage.

"Mirage, come in," he ordered with a small sigh.

Static hissed and crackled in his audios. It cleared…then grew, becoming full and less over and over again. It was teasing him.

"Mirage, come in." Optimus tried again, feeling Elita's worried optics on him. "Come in."

Static whistled – And finally, there was a voice.

"Optimus, Mirage here," it said, calm and collected. "Is there a problem?"

Optimus half-smiled. "Is the youngling still in your possession, Soldier?"

A small whirr echoed in the background of Mirage's channel, and the mech chuckled softly. "Oh yeah, he's still here," he said slowly. "No signs of the Decepticons yet. Bumblebee and I are out of camouflage until they appear."

Optimus nodded to himself. "Excellent, Mirage," he breathed gratefully. "Over and out."

**XXx**

**Inside the Decepticon Base: Megatron's Quarters **

The trio of Seekers stepped past the threshold in unison, the respected (at least he was _supposed_ to be respected) Second standing broadly between them. Starscream led them through the narrow, dark hallway, his blood red optics gleaming through every shadow that dared veiled his faceplate. Thundercracker shot a glance at Skywarp, who did the same, and they both began to exchange glances, but skipped to the bloodthirsty grins. A deceptive smirk grew across each their faceplates as they turned about face, their armed weapons pulsing in red-hot enthusiasm.

"I can't wait to _crush_ the Autobots…An aerial attack is probably their most doubted expectation on our part," Thundercracker whispered, chuckling lightly.

Skywarp hummed in agreement. "My teleportation should come in handy."

"Quiet," Starscream shushed heatedly.

The subordinates turned their optics.

Megatron sat about his throne, studying his Decepticons in heavy authoritative silence. Blackout twisted slightly to face their fellow Decepticons. Starscream ditched his fighter jets to arc forward reverentially before his Liege.

Skywarp shook his head. "Let the kiss-aft games begin," he murmured under his breath.

"Tell me about it," was the fellow jet's muttered response, his optics rolling.

"Lord Megatron," Starscream smiled, straightening to his height again. "The Autobots have arrived on the outskirts of the base. Shall we begin our first attack?"

"Yes, you, Starscream, will launch the first attack with your subordinates. Fight without second guesses, nor the slightest hesitation…" His servo curled into a fist, red optics narrowing in the darkness that veiled his faceplate. "Eradicate the enemy and blow them into oblivion."

Starscream nodded slowly. "As you wish, my liege."

"Blackout shall initiate our second attack," the Lord continued. "You will contact him, Starscream, a breem or so after you attack the _Autobots_," Megatron growled at the name of the enemy. "Bonecrusher shall follow…And I will personally go after the cretin who dared enter the youngling's cell."

"And what of Soundwave?" Thundercracker inquired. "Did he... offline?"

"For the time being," Megatron slitted his optics. "I believe he can be restored. But, now, time is short. Let us attack those fools before they attack us first!"

**XXx**

**Outside the Decepticon Base**

"Optimus! Seekers!" Prowl alerted, pointing a finger to the sky. "To the south!"

The Autobot commander spun with wide blue optics, scanning the skies almost desperately for three particular aircraft – The infamous Decepticon trio. His optics locked and zeroed onto three fighter jets grazing bottoms of the puffy, gray clouds that hung in the dreary skies. Each aircraft shuddered with their engines roaring, frames jolting forward with groaning hydraulics as metal stretched. Gracefully, they descended in an arc of unison, and the bellows of their engines only grew.

"Autobots, arm yourselves!" Optimus barked, detaching his laser rifle swiftly from his backside. His faceplate slid forward, optics narrowed. "We've got company."

"I'm way ahead of ya, Prime," Ironhide said, shuffling past the commander with his cannons brandished high, ready to be fired at will. They pulsed warm orange and cool blue, whirring excitedly as they fixed on the fighter jet trio. "Just say the word and I'll fire."

Optimus shot a glance at the weapons specialist, then the skies, alternating both gazes equally in the little astroseconds of time as the Seekers advanced. His hand hovered into the air, digits curling in a gesture. A single finger pointed up, and soon met the others in a tight fist.

"_Fire_," he ordered.

A duel blast whistled from Ironhide's cannons, each missile twisting and intersecting one another's paths as they spun through the air. Starscream broke a hard turn and adverted the missile's path, causing it to coil off course and discharge above the clouds. Skywarp pushed forward as the second projectile pursued him, trying to swerve and break at every moment given. In an instant, the jet once there was no more, seeming to slip right into the blue-black of the sky. The Autobots stared in confusion.

"The frag just happened?" Ironhide breathed, eyeing the commander.

Optimus sighed and lowered his gaze. "Teleportation…"

Skywarp appeared some ways down the bellies of the clouds, cackling madly in his success (perhaps it was _rare_). Thundercracker clicked the equivalent of a _tsk_, scanning and frequently checking his radar as to where the once Skywarp-pursuing missile could have gotten. His answer was plainly given when something grazed under a wing, detonating right beside the wing's tip.

"Arrrghhhh!" Thundercracker roared at his crippled wing, darting off. He curved up smoothly in an unwavering arch, becoming upside down for only a moment before the jet leveled, thrusting forward. "Fraggin' - " He cut his rant off short. Thundercracker instead fired as one with the fellow fighter jets along his sides, piercing the ground with nullray blasts. Hot flashes washed over the Autobots on foot, who fired back instantaneously.

"Blackout, report _now_!" Starscream demanded, and at once, the helicopter emerged from the base. The opposing squad noticed immediately.

"Four o' clock!" Hot Rod announced, turning on his heel. "They just keep _comin'_…"

"Primus, what _now_…" Sideswipe muttered as he, too, spun around. A MH-53 Pave Low Helicopter beat its wings through the air in unwavering rhythm, one that was insanely steady – menacing – drum beating right into his audios. The aircraft screeched in mid-transformation with its feet reaching for a frontal column of the base, propellers rotating to an abrupt halt on its back before folding. Blood red optics gleamed at Sides whilst the Decepticon detached his tail rotor blades, twirling them with an ominous glare.

Its infamous shriek resonated through the air yet again.

Sideswipe gulped in fear, and down went his pride. His weapon looked like a plastic toy – a complete _joke_ –in comparison to Blackout's.

"Dear, Primus…"

The Helicopter's mouth curled into a sickening smile as it pulsed its energy cannon. The cooler became warmer and warmer, richer in hue as the energy projectile threatened to unleash. Sideswipe darted backwards.

"Incoming!" warned Optimus.

"Ah, slag,' Sideswipe dropped his head.

The blast beamed through the air, twisting in its path as it homed for him. Sideswipe made an attempt to dodge the projectile, only finding himself on the ground from the burst of energy in the detonation. A hand sat on his shoulder and roughly turned him onto his back. His optics met a pair just like his own.

"C'mon, Sides, get up." He heard a voice, but saw many faceplates circling in his vision. He knew the voice, however, belonged to his twin brother. "You're not out _yet_. Get up."

Sideswipe creaked upright with the sound of a small groan, trying his best to focus his blurry vision on the Decepticon. His gaze adverted skyward immediately at the sound of aircraft engines, each one whistling and roaring overhead. With his servos attached to Sunstreaker for support, Sideswipe rose to his feet and raised his weapon to Blackout. Sunstreaker protested silently with a hand to force the weapon back at his brother's side. They met optics.

"You know you can't take that Decepticon out, Sides," Sunny shook his head. "Primus, twenty blasts to that thing wouldn't even cripple his armoring. Just look at him…"

Sideswipe shot a glance at Blackout, who continued staring at them. "But, he's sizing us up," he made a face. "We have to do _something_."

"Not with just me, we're not. I'm not into your whole, 'Look bad-aft for a promotion,' theory," the twin disapproved. "Leave that 'Con to himself."

"What're you _talkin'_ about? Sunny - "

"_I_ _know_ what I'm doing," Sunstreaker interjected. "Now, c'mon. We've got to help the others before we find ourselves severely outnumbered."

Sideswipe sighed heavily. "Cybertron to Sunstreaker. We were ordered to work as _separate units_. Optimus even explained – Working as one would only make us a huge target."

Sunstreaker was silent for a while. "…We can't take on that Decepticon. You know it."

"We _could_, if you would stop being' such a fraggin' _sparkling_."

Sunstreaker shot a glare, optics electrifying. "You _mean_, if you would actually stop and consider every possible consequence and situation we could end up in. Ever consider _death_?"

"You're making excuses."

"I am not dying, because of your reckless, dim-circuited ways. You can either _follow me_ or take on that Decepticon by yourself."

Sideswipe took nervous glances at Blackout, still mightily fixed on his perch. The Helicopter lowered his energy cannon and transformed to the skies, the propellers creating that villainous, stubborn drumbeat – One that sent shudders up Sides' spine.

His answer was evident in the drumbeat alone.

**xXx**

**Inside the Decepticon Base: Bumblebee's Confinement Cell**

**Half a Breem Later**

_Thud, thud, thud, thud… _

Bumblebee optic lids shot up as pure fright clouded his infantile faceplate, wide blue optics glimmering with a sheet of tears that glazed them. He looked up at Mirage with an inhuman drone, clawing at the mech's spark chamber as if it somehow held the answer, as if it somehow possessed the key to lock away every trace of fear inside him. He bounced in Mirage's massive servos, thrashing uncontrollably.

"M-Mirage!" he cried helplessly.

Mirage focused his optics at the mouth of the cell – There was no trace of dread whatsoever etched on his faceplate, only determination and a willingness to fight it through, to fight like he had never before. Even if it meant sacrificing his own life.

Bumblebee deserved no pain, no matter how faint it could be. The scars on his spark were already permanent wounds from haunting recollections and past experiences.

Anything further would be dire to his tender lifesource.

_Thud, thud, thud, thud…_

"Prepare yourself, Bee…"

Standing slowly, Mirage initiated his camouflage, cradling the now invisible Bumblebee against his warm chestplate. The mech's spark cooed Bee to faint whimpers and shaky whirrs, each hum thrumming gently through the little bot's frame.

"Stay quiet," he ordered lightly. "No more crying…"

Bee whimpered his last. "Are we gonna be okay?" his tiny voice barely whispered. Mirage didn't answer, only brushed the forefront of his digits across Bumblebee's sweet cheekplates. Bumblebee didn't understand what the gesture was implying. Was it an, "It's gonna be okay?" brush across the faceplate, or a, "Shhh…" and an uncertain, "We'll be fine."

The uncertainty made him shiver.

"Mirage?"

"Shhh…"

_Thud, thud, thud, thud…_

The footsteps reverberated through the floor with an incredibly steady beat – It was almost freakish to listen to. Mirage merged into the depths of the shadows once again, praying to Primus to give him the courage and the strength he needed to destroy whatever Decepticon was heading his way. He could feel Bee's tiny spark thudding frantically against his own chamber, and he grimaced.

"Don't be scared," he whispered. "Please, little one. I'm right here, okay?"

Bumblebee didn't respond. Mirage only felt a single energon tear trickle down his chestplate. There was no use in telling Bumblebee to not fear, he admitted that finally. Those wide optics had seen his mother's lifeless body spewing with energon, Autobot civilian corpses piled on high, a Decepticon's optics mere inches from his own…Bumblebee had seen an eon's worth of war's illustrations, and perhaps even _more_. Mirage could only imagine the thoughts and flashes of imagery going through Bee's processor right now. Each had to be agonizing.

_Thud, thud, thud, thud…_

Footsteps continued forth, and soon, a furious roar bellowed through the hall. Bumblebee couldn't help, but squeak out in fear, beginning to sob with a curl of his frame. His optics squeezed shut under the processor that flooded him with death – Death, death, death – Image after image, sound of pain after sound…Each bore into him like stabs of an unceasing bayonet.

_Stop, stop, stop. _

"M-Mmm…" he hummed between hitching breaths, clawing at his head. "N-No, no, no…"

Mirage grunted softly in a pain, feeling his spark twist, wanting – no, _needing_ – to coo in the bot's audios. But, he knew and hated knowing that doing such a thing would only render him discovered. Mirage swore under his breath.

He slowly shifted his arms silently and cradled Bumblebee deeper into his chestplate, quickly leaning down. His mouth halted above Bumblebee's foreplate before easing against it, fatherly kissing the yellow metal. Bumblebee shivered in secure arms at the affectionate gesture, then murmured indistinctly when Mirage pulled away. The Autobot mech brushed the bot again, quicker than before.

"Shh, shhh…Please, Bumblebee. _Relax_…I'm here, I'm here."

The mechling groaned as if he were nauseous.

"I know you're there, Autobot," a booming voice rasped. "Come on out!"

Mirage shuddered and drew deeper into the shadows, his spark thudding.

Now, he was scared.

Bumblebee felt every beat of the mech's spark and whined, quaking nonstop.

"M-Mirage…"

"Quiet, quiet…" was the returned whisper, serious in demand, yet gentle in sympathy.

"…Or I shall _finish_ this before it ever begins," the voice ended. _Megatron_ ended.

_Thud, thud, thud, thud…_

Closer and closer and closer…The Lord himself. With each astrosecond that passed, Megatron's approach was nigh. Mirage knew he would come, and braced himself, beginning with a small oath.

"Take my life if you must, Megatron," Mirage murmured, clutching Bumblebee as if he were the Allspark himself. His optics dropped to where Bumblebee's would be, drooping as they pictured the mechling's fear-stricken gaze and scrunched faceplate. "Do anything you want… but do not take this little life from my hands."

**xXx**

**Outside the Decepticon Base**

Ironhide pulled back as he launched another duel blast of missiles from his cannons, watching with rugged expression as each projectile shrilled through the air in twisting array. One detonated against the underside of Starscream's wing, bending it only slightly. The second jolted aside and grazed Thundercracker's underbelly, threatening to detonate, but the jet was ahead of the game. He broke a downward curve and propelled forward, nullray blasts spewing in syncopation. Skywarp fired off sync as he soared at the subordinate's flank, their respected Second screeching overhead them.

"Skywarp, take the yellow one," Starscream hissed over private communications. "Thundercracker, destroy the femme. I'll take the one with the cannons."

Each jet roared their engines in approval and killed their COM channels. Thundercracker twirled in a quick barrel roll, then balanced in a flat, overturned position with warming cannons. He hooted forebodingly.

"Ohh, the skies are my arena," he breathed with a laugh. "Prepare to vanquish, Autobot!"

The blasts flickered through the air like _"pew pew pawing"_ laser beams, straight at the sky blue femme with her weapon clutched above her breastplate. Chromia rolled out of the beams' path, righting up into a kneeled position. Ironhide shot her a glance, relieved to see her rise to her feet. He grinned sheepishly.

"That's my femme," he told her.

Chromia made a face. "These Decepticons can eat _slag_ for all I care."

"Oh, we'll see who's going to eat the slag around here," Thundercracker muttered, swerving away.

Ratchet raised his machine guns at another incoming jet – at Starscream. The Seeker drew closer and closer to the ground, descending to the point where the power of his engines kicked up the earth below, his underbelly practically grazing. The machine guns disappeared as the medical officer cocked back his arms. He hid behind his back the sharp rotary saw that whirred eagerly below the sound of the roaring engine – and at the perfect moment – Ratchet lashed out.

The saw to Starscream's wing amputated a large segment of its tip, and the Decepticon hissed in pain and fury, veering off course as he took a harsh upward curve. Ratchet's buzz saw whirred in disposal as the machine guns were rearmed and aimed for the Decepticon Second. His optics turned, and with a single nod to Chromia and Ironhide, they fired in unison at the retreating jet. The twin subordinates followed behind like ducklings tracking their mother duck, taking fire, yet remaining intact.

"Hold," Ratchet ceased, lowering his guns. "They've retreated."

Chromia arched an optic ridge and held her gun against her chestplate. "Well, that sure was easier than I expected…" She slowly looked to her broad-shoulder sparkmate, worry shadowing her faceplate. "Almost… _too_ easy."

Ironhide's weapons, unlike the fellow Autobots', remained online – Pulsing and humming with life. His electric blue optics zeroed on the fleeing Seekers until he could see them no longer, and with a sigh, he shook his head.

"Oh, they'll be back…" he whispered bitterly. "Don't you worry."

* * *

Whoo-hooo, cliffhanger. xD I just had to keep you all in suspenseee.

Please review. xD


	13. Chapter XIII: Battle for Bee, Part II

**_Oh my goodness, it's been ages since I've updated, and I really, really, really am sorry for that. I've been really busy with schoolwork, new clubs for after school, homework, Karate, music lessons...the list drags on. I apologize for anyone I've upset or any of that! But, over that longggg time, I had been writing a little each day - some days getting alot more done than others. I would like to thank Karategal again for helping me edit and fix grammar. ) Thank youuu so much!_**

**_And this chapter - Ehh', it's okay to me. Tell me what you think. Please enjoy, read, review, all that jazz. Thanks._**

**_Canti Sixx._****

* * *

**

**Chapter Thirteen: The Battle for Bumblebee, Part II **

**Outside the Decepticon Base: At the Outskirts of the Battle**

His spark fell like a dead weight, a dull thud inside him. Some sense of guilt took its toll like a looming shadow, covering him, slipping its way through crevices in his bright on sharp-accented armor plating. It weaved to his lifesource, constricted and sunk its fangs into the core of his heart. Pain swelled under the yellow metal of his chestplate, and he splayed his hand across it, attempting to kill the throbbing.

_Primus, why wouldn't it stop? _He grimaced.

"Ugh," he breathed, clutching his ache with a grimace. With a sigh, he lifted his optics.

Jaryn's features were hard-edged, his mouth drooped in the parabola of a frown. Electric blue optics skimmed over the battlefield laid out before him in a slow, sorrow-filled manner, to the Autobot regiment combating the pressing Decepticon forces. Red hot nullray blasts soared through the air in the blinks of optics and seared once flawless ground, spewing laser fire being its instantaneous reply.

_Look at it all._

He soaked all of in it like little Bumblebee orns before, taking in every bit of Auto-Con war footage on the holoscreen. There was the Seeker trio dancing the skies, roaring engines, returning fire, barks of orders, the oh-so-thick and unwavering pitter-patter of a helicopter's rotary blades beating in the air…

_Where we stand._

Jaryn winced at it all. He _hated_ it all. Hated it, hated it, _hated_ it.

Words were way too kind to express his abhorrence. He _hated_ warfare.

Swallowing down the tears that painfully rose up along his throat, the mech continued scanning the field, although knowing the pain it caused him. All he could hear were the sounds of battle, could see the sights, but the one bright frame he longed to see was _not_ here.

No Bumblebee.

_I don't understand how this came to be. _

Jaryn cursed under his breath, intakes huffing angrily as he curled the digits of one servo into a fist. He forced himself to turn from the battle, shutting his optics, cursing over and over and over until his throat funneled too tightly for words to be spoken. They hitched and he could only painfully swallow again, watching his vision blur with tears.

_How could you fall so fast?_

Every emotion was a part of a horrible jubilee inside his mind – There was the anger, the spark-wrenched pain, the fear – and each one kept Jaryn rooted to the ground. With an energon tear trickling for the first time in so long, Jaryn let his processor drift as it wished. Bowing his head, he remembered only a few orns ago, to when his precious mechling was whirring for reassurance, whispering to him to hear a promising coo in return.

_How could I?_

He _damned_ himself for lying that very orn…

_"Dada, are we gonna be okay?" the bot had whispered in his father's embrace. _

_Jaryn remembered smiling into wide blue optics like his own. "Bumblebee…Everything will be okay, alright? Daddy and Mommy will be here for you..." _

Jaryn cursed. He had _lied_ to his son. His own mechling.

He had said everything would be alright.

_Look where they all were _now, he forced himself to realize.

_Look at __now__._

Two of their family unit were already extinguished, gone forever, _dead_; It was as if warfare's gruesome silhouette of death towered over him wherever he went.

_Leave me alone_, Jaryn grimaced in thought.

_All Hell is lose. _

If Bumblebee were to _die_, if the Autobot squadron were to _fail_ their mission - …Primus, he didn't know what he would do. Bumblebee was _all_ he had left. The mechling had been the reason he wanted to wake up before the Cybertronian sun rose in the east, before the slightest trace of light spilled over their district.

_And I remember those days._

His digits twitched, remembering how Bumblebee's tender frame felt in his palms – that squirming little life. Jaryn remembered stroking the small, angular valley of Bumblebee's chestplate, feeling the soft beats of his tiny spark.

_When none of this existed. _

He began to wonder how his own servos felt sliding along Bumblebee's frame.

Jaryn sighed, his shoulder panels rounding. He dropped the thought.

_How if you told me, days before, that this would happen…I would have laughed. _

Every feeling returned to him, and his optics melted on his faceplate. Tears fell a little more, then faster, and he didn't bother to wipe them, finally letting out every harvested emotion of pain, sorrow, and fear escape him, flood down, and away. Away and away.

_Just go. _

**xXx**

**Inside the Decepticon Base: Bumblebee's Confinement Cell**

The mechling's soft cries only made Mirage grimace.

He couldn't even believe he was hiding mere feet away from the Decepticon leader himself, practically making a futile attempt to shy away from death at the doorstep. He struggled to find any motivation at a time like this, besides the shuddering youngling wound in his grasp reminding him of their ultimate objective. In a few short breems, he would be faced with one aspect of combat he almost _always_ became unwilling to confront – _Direct_ combat.

He was a _spy_, for Primus' sake. Observations, patience, silent inquiry – It was all a part of how his _spy_ nature was wired.

And direct combat betrayed all of those _spy_ natures.

An agitated groan left him.

Spark beating quicker, Mirage closed his optics, slowly wrapping his servos protectively around the tender being against his chestplate. He cupped him gently with arms winding tighter to secure Bumblebee. Miniature servos latched to his forearms, a round head nudging an audio receptor into his warm chestplate. Bumblebee hiccupped between sobs at Mirage's frantic sparkbeat.

"'Age…" the bot barely whispered, slowly brushing Mirage's chestplate with his digits. "I don't like this, M-Mirage." His wide optics cast upward. "M-Mirage, I wanna go home."

Mirage swept his own along the tiny frame, shaking his head with no words and no optical contact. He pressed his lips against the mechling's cheekplate, stroking quicker until every whimper died in Bumblebee's throat.

Megatron's mighty footfalls betrayed the following silence.

"You _imprudent fool_, how _dare_ you hide from me," the Lord rasped, his looming frame entering the confinement cell. "No matter…I will find you otherwise."

The _shing_ of an unleashing steel flail sent shivers up Mirage's metallic spine, and caused his digits to dig deeper into Bumblebee, harnessing his tiny frame. The bot shut his optics and gulped down a whine, quaking in horrible thrashes.

"None of your kind have _ever_ hid from me…And lived to see another orn."

Frag the risk; Mirage opened his mouth.

"Quiet, quiet," he spoke to Bee in a voice that barely passed as a whisper, a voice practically dry. Bumblebee's servos clawed at the mech's chestplate, little, short whimpers skipping from his tiny throat, pleading. He was extremely terrified.

Mirage cupped a hand beneath the mechling's bottom, sliding him up his chestplate until he reached the crook of his neck. Caressing lightly the bot's helm, he tucked Bumblebee against his neck with a soft hush. Gentle sways sent Bumblebee's whimpers to shaky hums.

Bumblebee extended and craned his neck as Mirage thumbed over his foreplate. His guardian's fingers made a small journey to a tiny shoulder panel, dancing on top of it oh so tenderly.

A large hand covered Bumblebee's backside like a giant, protective blanket, and the bot felt incredibly secure – As if the hand were an impenetrable cape.

Nothing could go through it, and harm him.

His tiny spark fluttered against Mirage's shoulder, and the guardian mustered a small smile. Bumblebee smiled back with a tiny giggle.

Though the smiles seemed like nothing, it gave them that much more of a boost.

New determination surged through Mirage as he turned his optics to Megatron, mere feet before him. The Autobot sunk deeper into the shadows and activated camouflage, both servos attached to Bumblebee. Slitting his optics, Mirage watched every movement the Lord made, hard-edged fortitude sculpting his every feature.

"Bring it," his mouth barely growled.

"I know you're _there_, Autobot. Hand over the youngling," Megatron demanded, scanning the cell with the flail lifting high. "…and perhaps I _may_ spare your _pathetic_ life."

Mirage's optics narrowed even further. "Over my _dead body_."

**xXx**

**Outside the Decepticon Base: At the Outskirts of Battle **

Hot Rod pressed his weapon against one red shoulder panel, taking advantage of the first quiet – well, at least somewhat _quieter_ – moment since the Decepticon confrontation had began only breems earlier. Dropping to one knee joint, his blue optics admired the weapon clasped between his digits, his forefinger brushing slowly across its trigger. Smoke still snaked from the muzzle, and he rushed a breath from his neck's intake valves to disperse the dark air.

"There," he sighed. "Perfect."

Arcee rolled to his side, grunting softly. Hot Rod watched as the candy colored femme lowered two dark, pistol-like weapons from above her shoulder panels, laying the fronts of her digits lazily across each one's triggers. Feeling the mech's optics on her as she dropped her weapons by her hip compartments, her metal lips curved into a smile.

"What're you starin' at, Hot Rod," she spoke playfully, turning her blue optics to his. They upturned. "Never seen a femme _dual wield _before?"

Hot Rod blinked, making a face. He cleared his oral circuits. "Please," a scoff.

"Is that a, '_Yes_,' or a, '_No_.'" She was teasing him.

"_No_," grunted the reply. "I _have_ seen a femme dual wield."

Arcee rested her case, still smirking.

Her blue optics slowly shifted back to the battle splayed a small distance before them. The roar of the Seeker trio's engines could still be heard as they retreated in accorded fashion to the far skies, leaving trails of smoke from their powerful engine thrusters. Arcee's shoulders rounded inward as she sighed, pale red lips drooping to a soft frown.

"What cowards, huh?" she sighed.

Hot Rod chuckled, rising to his normal stature. "What? You wanted to _fight_ 'em?" He held out a palm to the femme. "Nice one..."

Arcee set her servo in his palm, letting his digits curl around it and hoist her to her feet. Her blue optics still watching the dark, blue-black heavens, her frame shifted subconsciously into a one-armed embrace around her shoulder panels. She rested her head in the crook of his neck, to the sweet spot where his jawline could prop against her cheekplate, to where she could feel breaths of air from his neck's air intake valves wash coolly onto her helm. He squeezed her shoulder, rubbing her arm slowly.

She finally got to answering his question. "No, well...Why _not_?" she murmured, smiling a little. "You're _afraid_ of a couple fighter jets, I see."

A corner of Hot Rod's mouthplate curled upward to a smile. "_Wisdom_ will always defeat firepower," he grinned widely, sliding his digits down her arm until he reached her servo, clasping it. "Who needs artillery when you have one of the _best_ logic processors in the galaxy?" His servo lifted to caress her helm.

Arcee looked toward his optics, and smiling, she shook her head. "You _always_ say that."

**xXx**

He didn't know what to do anymore – He didn't know anything.

Faceplate bland, Jaryn descended down the even slope of the hill with his gaze locked the storm-heavy bottoms of clouds, the haunting obscurity of the skies. He stared as if something were to fall right out of the sky, as if the clouds were to part and give way to spill…Frag, he didn't even know what. He wanted hope to fall down, some courage, a little more determination, some sort of ambition maybe, a motivation, and something to kill the fear that refused to let him be.

Primus, the list dragged on. And perhaps his wish was too much of a package.

"You're _afraid_ of a couple fighter jets?"

Jaryn's optics shot up at the sound of a femme's voice, blinking twice. He moved behind chunks of rubble and debris that littered the Decepticon base's turf, pressing his side against one as he peered ahead of him. A red and golden mech leaned back against a hunk of debris, a femme slung under his arm. Jaryn felt his spark sink at the sight – How simple it was to bring back memories of Lexine. He choked down the tears along his throat and forced the images away, lifting a servo against the rubble beside him.

"_Wisdom_ will always defeat firepower," the mech was saying. "Who needs artillery when you have one of the _best_ logic processors in the galaxy?"

"You _always_ say that."

Jaryn's optics rounded as he caught the glimpse of an Autobot insignia fixed at the center of the mech's broad, red chestplate, the symbol set between swooping, golden flames. Hot Rod eased Arcee against his chestplate, winding his arms securely around her pink and white frame. The insignia was swallowed up in the embrace, but Jaryn _knew_ he had seen it. He didn't need a second glance.

"Autobots," his mouth barely formed, optics dropping to the ground.

Was it possible that they, somehow, _knew_ where his son was?

That they had _seen_ Bumblebee?

**xXx**

Arcee nudged her head into the broad chestplate of her mech, feeling a low sound resonate inside him with the warm hums of his spark. His servos splayed across the soft backs of her shoulder panels, stroking slowly, deeply, massaging her. Arcee giggled out a small purr, and Hot Rod returned the throaty sound, pressing his foreplate against hers. With two smiles, their pairs of optics gazed deeply into one another's, each seeing a pool of blue upturn lovingly. Hot Rod latched his mouth with Arcee's, watching her optic lids flutter.

They turned from his closing pair, then widened.

Someone was watching.

She twisted her lips from their kiss, gesturing to rubble and debris behind Hot Rod.

"Hot Rod! Look!" she gasped.

Hot Rod spun.

His optics locked to where she indicated, scanning, darting left and right.

Nothing.

Slowly, he arched a skeptical optic ridge, turning back to his sparkmate, although maintaining a gaze on the suspicious spot.

"What is it?" he whispered, drawing her into his chestplate with palms against the backs of her shoulder panels. "There's _nothing_ there…" He looked to her.

"_S-Someone _was _watching_ us," she trembled in his arms. "I-I _saw_ optics, Rod."

Hot Rod furrowed his brow, half smiling. "I'm sure you're imagining things, Arcee." He grinned widely at her, running his servos along her metallic spine. "There's _no one_ here besides – "

"No," a smooth voice interjected calmly from behind them. "She's right."

Perplexity played across Hot Rod's faceplate.

He turned.

Soon, he found himself squaring his broad set of shoulder panels with one identical -ones of a mech only very slightly below his stature, with a frame of primarily rich yellow. Individual platelets of his armoring were accented a sharp, jet black – Along his forearms, chestplate, his legs and angular pair of doorwings, and even minute facets of his faceplate. His optics were ocean blue and sat melted on his face, weighed with evident feelings of guilt, sorrow, and worry that lay harvested inside him. The somewhat awkward configuration of one forearm was an automatic divulge of a plasma cannon, and it was obvious by his broad set of shoulders that he carried with him a pair of shoulder cannons.

The mech was _loaded_. Was he a warrior?

Neither one of them had laid optics on the guy before.

Hot Rod _assumed_ the mech was an Autobot, judging by his blue optics and the coloring of his armor – but it was the assumptions that killed. Decepticons _deceived_ Autobots, and disguise could very much be one of their witty tricks. He wouldn't fall for anything too easily.

Hot Rod stepped before Arcee, shielding her from this _friend_, or _foe_.

"And who might _you_ be?" he questioned, optics narrowing slowly with servos against his hip compartments.

The mech's optics stared deeply, and it was then when Hot Rod noticed the age they carried, yet some sort of youth submerged in the pools of ocean blue.

"Jaryn," the mech replied, adverting to the Decepticon base. "M-My son…" He paused, choking down tears along his throat. "Please, have you two seen him? Tell me you have..." As his gaze returned, rivulets of energon built up along the bases of his optics, flooding the ducts as they threatened to spill. Hot Rod nearly winced at the sight.

"Hot Rod," Arcee murmured from behind. "He must be… the _youngling's_ _father_." She grabbed his arm and shook it. "The one we're _rescuing_."

"Y-Your…Your _son_?" Hot Rod echoed the mech, eyeing Arcee with a small nod of acknowledgement. He looked back to Jaryn. "Sir, you're telling us you're the bot's _father_?"

Jaryn nodded simply.

"Dear, _Primus_," Arcee breathed, stepping from behind. "You're the youngling's _father_…" she echoed yet again. Her servos latched to her sparkmate's forearm, digits digging in. "Hot Rod, we have to report to Optimus. When he discovers…Primus, just _imagine_ - "

"No," Hot Rod interrupted, his voice suddenly edged. "I'm not convinced…"

Arcee blinked and stammered back, her words hitched in her throat, as she nervously made optical contact with Jaryn. The mech stood frozen.

Hot Rod optics electrified heatedly, turning to Jaryn as if they could see right through him, as if they could see right to the core of his very lifesource and beyond – perchance even catch sight of his haunting pastime. Jaryn's shoulder panels rounded as he stepped away, almost cowering in silent surrender, watching the red and golden mech in a form of fear.

Jaryn opened his mouth. "What're you - "

"For all we know, this supposed _father_ of that youngling could be a Decepticon in _disguise_," Hot Rod growled lowly under his breath, lifting his weapon against a shoulder panel.

Arcee felt her air intakes hitch, and she subconsciously flailed her servos out to the weapon, clutching it and pulling it down to Hot Rod's chestplate. "_Stop this_!" she protested, glowering at her sparkmate. "Why would he lie about such a thing?!"

"Arcee!" Hot Rod glowered.

The femme grunted as the weapon was thrusted from her digits' grasp, her optics rounding in disbelief once it was raised and aimed for Jaryn, who stood stagnant in dismay with a fear glazing his optics. Hot Rod rested his forefinger across the trigger.

"Stop it," he finished his femme, then divided his attention. "What _proof_ do you have?"

Jaryn swallowed nervously, straightening. "Proof of wha-"

"_Proof_ that you're an Autobot," Hot Rod gritted, optics slitting.

Enough was enough. With a straightening stature, Jaryn drew in a deep breath into his intakes, lifting a servo to swipe the weapon against the muzzle, adverting its aim to the ground. Hot Rod's hair trigger reaction caused the fore of his digit to curl around the trigger suddenly in his alarm, snapping it inward with the least bit of force. The beam of a laser projectile seared the ground, the red hot burst of energy sending Hot Rod to his aft.

Arcee watched in silence as he eyed his weapon with almost an angry look about his faceplate, the expression only growing as he adverted to the mech standing above him. His optics narrowed.

"You - "

"If _anything_, I know that such behavior towards a fellow _Autobot_ is completely unacceptable. That _Autobot_ being myself," Jaryn hushed him, his voice barely a murmur. Though his tone of voice was clearly unsentimental, his optics still hung melted on his faceplate, rich pools of blue that held no shred of anger whatsoever.

It was…awkward. Arcee furrowed her brow at the sight. How he could hold frustration and the negative emotions it brought with it, being faced with the fact that his son was nowhere near their location, and still manage to contain every trace of anger in him pretty damn well. Kudos to Jaryn for that, she joked in the back of her mind.

Jaryn held out his palm to Hot Rod.

"I had no intentions of hurting you, Sir," he apologized.

Hot Rod ignored the mech's courteous gesture, bringing himself to his normal height with his optics locked on the weapon clasped between a servo of digits.

"You _didn't_," he muttered, meeting Jaryn. "I guess you're really not lying."

"I told you," Arcee teased softly without the trace of a smile, nudging her sparkmate's side with an elbow. She was surprised when Jaryn mustered the smallest smile, although his optics kept their ocean-blue heartache unaltered.

But, in an astrosecond, the grin was gone, as if it had only been a fragment of her memory circuits.

"My question, bring that back to processor," Jaryn evoked in a surfacing whisper, lowering his melted optics to the ground. "Neither of you have seen my son?" He choked down the tears again, curling his servos in the struggle. "Yellow, black, blue optics…" He looked to them. "Like me…"

The sparkmate couple grimaced, waiting for the other to deliver the bad news.

And...no one volunteered. Hot Rod cleared his oral circuits.

"We're - "

"We're sorry…Jaryn," Arcee stepped forth, sympathy and a great sense of sorrow weighing inside her spark, like a heavy-hanging bell with little strength to produce the slightest bit a song, only ringing out a doleful note. She forced words from her oral circuits. "The _entire_ squadron here is fighting for our rightful custody of your son, _Autobot_ safekeeping."

"You know for certain that he is in Decepticon hands?" Jaryn said openly and hung his head, then looked away.

Arcee nodded slowly. "Sir, you could gladly join us…A-And reclaim him - "

Jaryn's head shook, stopping her. His optics lifted to the Decepticon base, to the Autobots combating a distance away from their position in a litter of rubble.

"For some reason, I just can't _will_ myself to go out there," he admitted in a whisper. Jaryn dropped his optics, closing them before he opened his mouth to confess, to correct himself. "My sparkmate… and eldest son were _murdered_ by Decepticons, each in the same day…One in the morning, the other at nightfall." He met their gaze, looking from Arcee to Hot Rod. "I blame myself for part of it, for my mate's death…We had _known_ that there had been a high chance of an attack…" He suddenly looked to a fist. "I should have taken her word, and left our district…It's my fault. All of it."

Catching a falling tear, Arcee forced herself to look away. Finally, those optics, the ones that seemed as if they were to fall off of his faceplate with every tear that was weighed in them, dumped rivulets onto his cheekplates. Jaryn swiped them away angrily, turning from the two too quickly. Hot Rod stammered forward with a servo already outstretched.

"Wait a sec - "

"No," the mech silenced, beginning to disappear behind littered debris.

"Let us help you…"

Jaryn didn't respond.

This fear, it was a wall Jaryn thought he could never climb, and would never be able to. The fear acted as a horrible inferno, flames from the Pit itself, rising up to him until his beating spark became scorched to the core. The fear was like looking up to the heavens at night, looking up at darkness, knowing a star was there, though never seeing it.

It was the thought that if he even made an attempt to go into battle, he would only end up in the Well of Allsparks, leaving his defenseless son behind.

A cold touch of dread against his spark.

**xXx**

**Outside the Decepticon Base: About a Breem Later**

Finally, it was all over – At least, for now.

Pressing his weapon against a shoulder panel, Sideswipe huffed out a breath of exhaustion as he sat on his aft, leaning back against one of the many pieces of debris that littered the Decepticon base's lawn, so to speak. His golden twin paused in mid-stride, an optic ridge arching as his gaze fell to his worn out brother. He _tsk_ed.

"Surely you can't be tired already," he sighed disappointedly. "We're just getting started! _C'mon_. Let's go kick their afts to the fraggin' _moon_!"

Sideswipe sat his weapon beside his hip compartment, glaring the evil optic with a sigh. "Mute it. I know I'm not moving yet." He fiddled with his weapon.

Sunstreaker rolled his optics. "You sure are in the prime of your youth, aren't you," he muttered sarcastically.

"I say again, '_Mute_ _it_.'"

Sunstreaker huffed and plopped beside his brother.

The rumble of roaring engines returned to the blue-black skies, seeming as if it came from the Heavens themselves, as if some sort of anger could no longer be contained. But then, infamous aircraft frames could be seen as they swooped from the hearts of the clouds, nearing the thinning, dark bottoms until they rendered themselves perceptible. Sunstreaker nearly leaped to his feet, not hesitating to hoist his twin up with a servo clutching his shoulder panel, his optics locked on the fighter jets the entire time.

Sideswipe protested. "What're you _doing_?"

"Hey, look," the reply with a digit at the Seekers. "C'mon, Sides. This is our _chance_."

Sideswipe didn't answer yet, sulking under the weight of his brother's palm. The fighters soared in an elegant array about their airborne arena, in a kind of aerial dance, a smooth, harmonious waltz. It was a sight indeed, almost beautiful to the optic…in a weird way.

It was then when the roar of the engines suddenly quieted, becoming replaced with the whirr of warming energy cannons, the freakishly unwavering hum of three pulsing-to-life pairs of cannons, the crackling energy, then the sound of spewing fire – Knife-edged, each one seeming sharp, red-hot as they pierced the ground. They were threatening.

Sideswipe clicked on a private communications channel. "We're gonna need backup and you know it, Sunny."

"No! Don't you even - "

The twin ignored. "Sideswipe to Optimus Prime," he said, watching the Seekers redirect their route toward them. "…Please, come in."

A, "_What're you doing? We can take them on ourselves_!" was also disregarded.

Hissing static crackled loudly in his audio receptors, finally clearing after a few astroseconds more.

"Optimus Prime," the acknowledgement.

Sideswipe watched red hot energy as it cackled at the muzzles of each pair of energy cannons, building with every astrosecond until the laser fire pleaded to unleash, begged to spew. He stood frozen, rooted to the ground.

"Seekers are back…"

**xXx**

Bonecrusher bore his weapons, shifting in swaying stature to a small right, keeping an even balance on his wheeled talons. His optics gleamed like pools of blood in the light of a moon, as did his bladed forearms in even the faint rays of the Cybertronian suns that penetrated through the thick, blue-black clouds. A low, barely audible chuckle rattled his chestplate.. The Decepticon felt anger and hate build – brew inside him to the point where he wanted to scream to the Heavens, roar with the hatred thudding in his chestplate. Yet, he mustered a smirk.

The twin Autobots spoke without a clue of his presence – His oh so near presence.

How foolish they were, to let such a mighty threat sneak under their radars.

Blades risen, Bonecrusher took two mighty steps forth, though remaining veiled in the dreary shadows of the littered rubble. Sweet anticipation made his claws click too eagerly, and adevious grin spread across his malevolent faceplate.

Fate had yielded its reward.

**xXx**

You had to blink to miss it.

In a meager moment, a duel blast of detonation impacted the rear thrusters of the Decepticon Second, although doing little damage at all to his mighty frame. Another couple followed, impacting Skywarp and Thundercracker against the stern of their metallic bodies. The daughter blasts instigated their sputtering and coughing engines to vomit clouds of smoke, whirring and chirring as they struggled to recover normal status.

"_After them_," Starscream ordered in a hiss.

Each fighter jet slowly adverted their aim. Who dared to interrupt their brilliant plan of commencement with their Autobot hostilities? The crackling red hot energy returned and surrounded their energy cannons' muzzles, red hot, as they jolted forward toward the ground, preparing to fire in accorded fashion.

Sunstreaker caught a glimpse of the Autobot – make that, _Autobots_ – risking the chance of getting their armor plating completely seared by the nullray fire. Ironhide, Chromia, and Ratchet.

"What're they waiting for?!" he whispered madly. "Shoot already…"

He found himself grimacing. There was a possibility that the trio could take the Seekers on, if each chose one opponent. But, Starscream, he would definitely take on more firepower than his subordinates.

They had to help.

Lifting his weapon before a golden shoulder panel, Sunstreaker started forth.

Sideswipe arched an optic ridge, goodbying Optimus Prime properly before killing the communications channel. "And just where do you think _you're_ headed?"

Sunstreaker huffed. "To help our fellow Autobots and show these Decepticons that they chose the wrong target to mess with," the golden twin answered bluntly. His optics turned to his brother's. "Where _else_ would - "

Words hitched.

He froze.

Blue optics rounded slowly in disbelief, in fear, in, "_Dear, Primus Almighty_."

A blade, so sharp, so sleek, glimmered from the shadows of the littered region behind his twin brother. Sideswipe stood without the slightest bit of an idea of how close his head was to being separated from his neck.

Yet, the words from his throat refused to slide out.

The shining weapon eased with great caution, and the beast to which it was possessed by revealed its blood red optics from the murky depths of the darkness, along with a faceplate cold enough to make a spark still instantaneously.

The golden twin's jaw dropped, and still no words uttered out from his throat – only meek hiccups of horrible perplexity.

Sideswipe rolled his optics at his brother's sudden flabbergasted behavior, leaning back against a chuck of rubble. He watched his servo stroke his weapon with a tender care, digits brushing against its smooth frame to and fro. His blue optics lifted back to his golden twin, an optic ridge arching. The mech was _still_ staring like he had seen a spawn of the Pit itself.

"Alright, the frag is wrong with you, Sunny?" Sideswipe questioned touchily. "What're you lookin' at?"

Sunstreaker stuttered out a small, choked squeak, then clamped his jaw shut. His optics remained wide on the slowly nearing blade and he winced as it seemed to graze his brother's neck, brushing against highly sensitive wires exposed in crevices of his armoring.

No, wait – It _did_.

Sideswipe stumbled away from the tree with a cry, optics darting toward _whatever_ had just grazed his neck. From the depths of the shadows stepped a roaring Decepticon, blades held high in its murderous yells. It shouted and cursed at them in their native tongue, easing toward the twin bots with piercing red optics.

Sideswipe began firing at point blank. Sunstreaker lunged for his brother and pushed him into the debris-littered area, colliding alongside. Sideswipe's breaths went sharp and fast to and from his intakes, his digits trembling as he armed his weapon and aimed. His forefinger sat across the trigger. It was barely believable that death had just brushed him, literally, right at the neck.

Yet, had a certain someone said something…

Sideswipe growled with mad optics shifting, glowering at his twin.

"Why didn't you open your audio unit and _tell_ me that there was a _blade_ heading _straight_ for my _neck_?!" he spat heatedly, resisting the urge to lash out as his twin. "Did you _want_ that thing to _decapitate_ me?"

Sunstreaker brandished his weapon. "I froze up!" he yelled back. "…For _once_ in my lifecycle, I froze up, alright? Primus, the best of the best have to sometimes."

Sideswipe scoffed. "Yeah, right. _Whatever_ you say…"

Bonecrusher thwacked aside the hunks of rubble in his path as if they were nothing, roaring in a great vehement rage. His optics locked on the perplexed faceplates of the Autobot twins, the hideous smile on his faceplate only stretching further. Bellowing again in absolute hatred, he jolted forward with a Cybertronian cry to the skies. Both Autobots fired aimlessly – at point blank with fear – shutting their optics as the beast pounced for them.

"Arghhh!" an angered roar.

It grew louder as Bonecrusher neared, then suddenly skipped to a bellowing cry of protest – one almost drenched in fear. The twins both opened their optics.

Jazz and Prowl fired at the back of the beast. Bonecrusher slowly straightened, turning to the two brave Autobots who dared interrupt his evil doings. Sunstreaker turned to look at his brother and the other did the same. Determination now ghosted over their faceplates like a glow, and with a smile to conceal it, the two nodded.

"Sides, fire for the center of his chestplate," Sunstreaker told as he rose, shouldering his gun. "It's the sweet spot on every Cybertronian – The _spark_. If we continue fire there, he'll be out in a breem. Not even."

Sideswipe nodded and clicked on an open communications channel to Prowl and Jazz, aware of the risk of Bonecrusher intercepting their speech. Luckily, the Decepticon was too busy roaring at them to pay their little communications channel any attention. "Fire for the spark chamber, per orders of Sunny," he said, shooting a wide smile at his brother. "We've got to take this 'Con down as quick as possible, then help the others fight off those jets for good."

"Gotcha," Jazz replied coolly.

Prowl grunted a stern acknowledgement.

The communications channel clicked off.

The Autobot twins broke separate directions, both aiming for that one spot. In one, all four fired and froze the Decepticon in his tracks. His foreblades doing nothing to aid his rage that spewed beyond its limit and ultimately blinded him in the red-hot fury. A roar to the Heavens shook them all – and then all was silent.

A mighty thud was obvious evidence of the beast's fall, his internals revving their last. Prowl frowned as he approached the defeated monster, slitting his blue optics with a shake of his head.

"You're lucky Jazz and I saw you two," he sighed, turning away from Bonecrusher to meet the optics of the twins. "Had we not come to your position, Primus knows what could have happened."

Sideswipe blinked the thought away, adverting his gaze to the weapon cradled in his hands. His digits nervously fluttered across the barrel. "Yeah, yeah, we know…" He looked through the littered area to the Decepticon base, sulking at the sight of the still-fighting aircraft trio. "What's next…?"

Sunstreaker grasped his weapon tightly. "I say we find more Decepticons and pound them to scrap metal!"

Prowl sighed. "Calm down and lay off the accelerator for _once_ in your lifecycle. We _still_ haven't gotten a single clue as to where this _youngling_ is…He could be _anywhere_."

"He's gotta be inside," Jazz said. "I mean…Decepticons. They've got confinement cells and alla' that, don't they?"

Sideswipe scoffed. "You expect _us_ to know?" He eyed the base. "I've never been in one of those…And certainly don't plan on it."

"It would be logical to keep the bot inside," Prowl interjected, giving a look to Sides. "Bringing him outside would only jeopardize his life."

"And, your _point_?" Sunstreaker twisted his lip. "Decepticons are _ruthless,_ in case you've _forgotten_."

"I don't think they'd wanna kill 'im," Jazz said slowly, crossing his arms. "I mean…Wouldn't they wanna keep 'im for trainin'? Make 'im one of _them_?"

Prowl nodded. "It seems that _we_ wish to do the same with the youngling, I don't see why the _Decepticons_ wouldn't attempt the same."

"Common sense, Sides," grinned Sunstreaker.

The twin ignored, optics dropping. "I just wonder what they're doin' to the little mech, y'know? It could be _anything_."

Every Autobot's optics shifted to the Decepticon base, images of a suffering youngling clawing at their sparks. Not one of them needed to neither see nor meet the little one to feel his fear, and pain for all they knew.

Was the youngling online?

They didn't know. They only knew there was one way to find out.

If Bumblebee was online, would he _still be_ by the end of this battle?

Would the Decepticons be so merciless as to extinguish such a tender lifesource?

Who knew…

**xXx**

**Inside the Decepticon Base: Bumblebee's Confinement Cell**

His audio receptors rung and echoed for astroseconds upon end, as if his processor were one never ending cavern, letting whatever sound bounce off its dense walls to the next – over and over and over again.

Voices. Voices of Megatron's previous threats reminded of a horrifying likelihood, a fate not to leave his processor. The preservation of Bumblebee's tender lifesource was essential. It was the goal of this entire mission.

Megatron was right on one thing; Mirage could not hide forever. Primus, he had to get out of here. He could only imagine how the sensitive mechling, clutched against the crook of his neck, felt at this time.

How did the world look, when it was so much bigger than you? How did it feel when all you could do was rely on _someone else_? How did it feel to put your lifesource in someone _else's_ servos?

Mirage suddenly blinked, letting his head bend down with the soft sound of a sigh.

How was he to do this?

Well, _moving_ would be a nice start.

A foot was lifted, then the other, set them next to each other, then Mirage looked around.

He hadn't moved.

It wasn't _his_ fault that legs refused to move, no matter how _loud_ his processor screamed at them and barked orders at his metallic joints to loosen up.

Just _one_ step, Primus.

Why was it so fraggin hard?

All the _fear_ – Mirage knew it. The fear that he would screw up and end them both up as a pile of scrap metal.

To try to calm down, he reviewed the gameplan: Stay in the shadows, ease closer and closer toward the cell bars, and get to that _switch_ on the wall, the one barely unveiled by the shadows. That switch was their one source of freedom. If he could reach it, and press it, they would be out of this Pit-slaggin' cell.

Mirage gazed down at Bumblebee, digiting over the bot's faceplate oh so tenderly. The bot's mouth wriggled beneath a finger, a small huff of warm air leaving Bumblebee's tiny neck's air intake valves.

So precious.

The guardian smiled. Mirage stroked tender, again, the Bumblebee's yellow foreplate. "We can do this," he grinned widely at the camouflaged mechling. "…We can do it, Bee." His servos cupped completely around Bumblebee, and eased him into a warm, thrumming chestplate.

A gentle whirr.

"Hang in there…"

A roar soon killed the determination Mirage's words had aroused in Bumblebee.

"Your end is _nigh_!"

The threat from Megatron hitched his intakes.

"Worthless," the Decepticon snapped. "Come on out…I _promise_ you. Your death shall be quick and _painless_."

Megatron was testing him, so Mirage concluded – Seeing how many daunting and unnerving threats it would take until the he cracked completely, until he was on his knee panels begging for mercy.

Yeah. _That_ would be the orn.

Mirage clutched the sparkling even tighter as the little one began to shudder and whimper. The tiny cries were muffled by a digit curled gently across a mouth. Bumblebee whirred into the curve of the digit, his servos lifting to grip Mirage's finger.

Bumblebee stirred and let out another whine, his form burrowing against Mirage's chestplate. He felt a large servo fall against his back and cup him securely. Mirage spoke nothing to the trembling little one, fighting the horrible urge to open his mouth and coo affection into those small audios.

Soon, that battle was lost. "Don't be scared," he barely murmured, voice practically absent. "I'm here. I'm here…You have nothing to fret over, got that?"

Bumblebee murmured undistinguishable words.

Mirage echoed, "You have nothing to fret over."

Why did he feel like he was just saying that? To make Bumblebee feel better…

A lie…

Did Bee believe him?

His thoughts were cut short. Growls rumbling in his chestplate, the bloodthirsty Decepticon leader loomed to the center of the dark chamber, his flail dragging with a horrible screech. Mirage had to cover Bumblebee's receptors from the terrible sound, yet Bumblebee still wriggled in thrashes.

Megatron's optics slowly scanned the room, complete fury shifting his scanners to near overdrive. He hissed heatedly, noting that Bumblebee was nowhere to be found, nor the Autobot that had taken this bot and attacked Soundwave.

_Soundwave_…

Megatron cast his optics downward to his trusted Decepticon who lay cold against the ground, his limbs and joints splayed awkwardly in his "offline" status. Megatron scowled and eased the tip of a finger against Soundwave's chassis, narrowing his optics in disgust. The subject was barely online, unconscious for _who knew_ how much longer. That only pissed him off even more.

"Autobot, I _will_ find you…" Megatron spoke in low resentment. "Do _not_ think you can hide from me." His claw curled.

At this, Megatron's optics slowly turned to a corner of the room – The _exact_ corner in which Mirage stood camouflaged. The Autobot instantly, without thinking twice, hitched his intakes, widening his optics as Megatron's own bloodied pair seemed to pierce his very lifesource. He worried in the oh-so-heavy silence, shuddering in his chills as silent as possible. Mirage wondered if Megatron could hear Bumblebee's and his own thudding spark, each pounding inside and against their chestplates. And dear Primus, he prayed that Bee would remain silent.

He grimaced.

_Not a word, not a sound, nothing, nothing, _nothing…he pleased, optics shutting. _Primus, please._

Just the thought that Bee could make a sound at _any_ astrosecond…It _killed_ him.

A curse formed on his lips. He bit it away.

_Please, stay quiet_, he pleaded in thoughts. _Please, Primus…Don't say _anything_._

Megatron slitted his optics at the shadows, elongating his deadly mace even further, little by little with a menacing smirk. Bumblebee whimpered under the metallic _shing_ of the flail, shivering in sharp thrashes. The weapon swayed to and fro, back and forth like a spiked pendulum ready to halve them in any moment.

Had they been spotted?

Astroseconds passed. A minute or two…

Finally, the Decepticon adverted his gaze with the mace swinging by his side, with growls rumbling the ground below. Each was mighty enough to rattle Bumblebee in his guardian's arms, his doorwings even fluttering.

"Since you _refuse_ to reveal yourself to me, and you _refuse_ to do this the _easy_ way…_Autobot_," the 'Con leader grinned. "Then, you leave me with no choice."

Mirage grasped Bumblebee in his digits, pressing the bot into his spark, knees bending.

He braced himself for whatever was ahead.

Bumblebee hummed in complete fear, casting his optics upward to his guardian.

No words wished to leave the mech's throat.

The flail swung like a metallic lasso after a snap of Megatron's wrist, revolving in deadly orbit inside the interior confinement cell. Any Autobot in the path of its deadly revolutions would be caught in the spikes, until they cut into the spark chamber itself, killing the victim in mere astroseconds.

Mirage winced at the images in his head, pressing his shoulder panels against the vertex of the corner he hid in, praying with every fiber of his being. Bumblebee's head nudged into his chestplate, optics shutting, refusing to look at the terrible sight. With a hanging head, Mirage slowly cupped a servo around Bumblebee's helm, covering the tender audios that needed not to be subject to such a fright.

Mirage lifted his optics back to the flail, and the rage-blinded Lord.

The weapon's razor-sharp spikes abraded the dark walls, chipping off flakes and shards of gray metal until they fell like rain against the Autobot mech's armoring, only causing him to hug the bot tighter. The sounds of metal sliding down his slick frame were muffled underneath the mace's rattling chain, and the ferocious roars that barked from the Decepticon Lord.

"Why do you _continue_ to hide?"

Mirage closed his optics as he clutched a violently trembling Bumblebee against his chestplate, his own form pressing even deeper into the very depths of the shadows, against the corner of the cell.

"Shh, shh," he managed to coo, listening with a grimace as he heard the bot's faint crying. "Don't be afraid…Don't be scared. Please…Shhh, shhh." He planted a soft kiss against the yellow helm. "I'm here."

Bumblebee's servos clawed at Mirage, a tiny form wriggling in absolute horror. He shuddered with the sound of a sob choking in his oral circuits, hitching abruptly as his throat funneled with tears. Bumblebee's intakes fluttered in his chest, hiccupping each breath in and out of his small mouth.

"I will get you, Autobot."

Bumblebee cried louder.

Mirage's faceplate contorted with grief, and he only managed to brush his fingers in light touches against Bumblebee's frame. He began to barely murmur soft words of affection into one of the bot's audios, whispering to the point where he found himself _ranting_, found himself cooing words and phrases he didn't even understand any longer.

At another roar, his optics returned to Megatron.

The flail barely missed him and he instinctively curled inward, sheltering Bumblebee more. His spark thudded painfully inside him, only horribly arousing a fear to brew inside Bumblebee. The little bot could feel every beat of his guardian's humming heart, and he wished his own would refuse to hum in the same furious sync.

Mirage hated to admit that he was frozen in this situation – His ideas as to what to do were scarce. He tried to betray his fear, closing his optics, controlling his processor and spark to calm…

Yeah, that was only a failure.

Megatron growled, lowering the weapon for only a moment. "Come on out…And we will end this once and for all."

Mirage huffed out a quiet breath.

As if Bumblebee could sense his insecurity, miniature servos wrapped around collections of two or three of Mirage's digits. He squeezed just slightly, but enough for a small surge of determination to rush through Mirage's internals like an energy boost from a shot of high grade, electrifying his optics and his spark.

Bumblebee smiled to the invisibility that cloaked his guardian, knowing it smiled back.

"Let's go," his mouth worded.

"Come out, Autobot…!" Megatron rumbled again angrily, the mace rattling. "You _cannot_ hide forever…"

Mirage gazed down to where the bot was hidden in camouflage in his servos, smiling wider at Bumblebee, at his tender bundle of ambition. He tried his best to ignore the threat that rung in his audios, picturing a wide-opticed, bright youngling.

He pictured the reward: At home, and Bumblebee - the youngling in their due custody.

He knew he was Bumblebee's only hope, the one and only the mechling's' yet-to-be-determined fate.

A tiny, blue lifesource rested in the servos of this one mech.

**xXx**

**Above the Decepticon Base**

Starscream swerved in the downward curve of a parabola, away from his subordinates, descending at the perfect incline against the breeze perfectly with his broad set of angular wings. Red-hot energy crackled at the tips of the muzzles of his energy cannons, aiming for the one band of Autobots that he had left undealt with.

The fighter jet barrel rolled, unleashing his metallic silver arms and legs, letting them dangle from the underbelly of the aircraft as they wished. His claws clicked, his optics locked on a target – small, pathetic, so easy - and he grinned from receptor to receptor. He longed for what was to come, his blood red pair of optics upturning in his great anticipation.

Claws extended for the unsuspecting Autobot, thrusting forward at the very last moment, gripping him in his claws, and swooping upward in an astrosecond toward the Heavens.

The bird had caught its prey.

**xXx**

"Jazz!" Prowl's cry resounded with a servo cast toward the sky. "Primus, _no_!"

The sight of the image took the breath from the trio's air intakes and rendered them speechless. Each wished what they were seeing was an atrocious fragment of their memory circuits. Every pair of Autobot optics lifted to the dreary blue-black Heavens, watching as Jazz wriggled desperately in the sharp-clawed grasp of Starscream. The sound of the laughing Decepticon above Jazz's protesting grunts was ever present.

The Decepticon Second refused to let go or weaken the tight clutch he had on the Autobot, his blood red optics glowering down with a ruthless smirk. As his claws fixed themselves on either end of the Autobot's frame, dug into the metallic skin, and tensed.

It was then when Jazz's fate had been sealed.

Arcee, with Hot Rod at the outskirts of battle, turned away and buried her faceplate into her sparkmate's chestplate. She felt him embrace her tightly too suddenly, and it was at that moment that her worst fears were realized. Every Autobot spark sank at the sounds of a dying fellow warrior, and some at the sight of a halved Jazz dangling from either claw of Starscream.

The roar of fighter jet laughter instantaneously took the skies, and within astroseconds, the subordinates joined their Second's sides. In astroseconds, the Seekers were gone, leaving the heavy sense of grief toiling in the air.

Arcee slowly turned her faceplate at a sudden silence – the first pure silence - her optics drooping at the sight of Autobots ambling to their fallen brethren. Hot Rod's servo gently turned her faceplate back into his chestplate, soon sliding down the curve of her back in tender understanding.

No words were traded.

* * *

**_Yes, I know, I'm kinda dragging out this whole Mirage + Bee vs. Megatron aren't I? Don't worry. There'll be way more action next chapter, which is already more than halfway done. Review guys._**


	14. Chapter XIV: Battle for Bee, Part III

Well, finally, this is being updated. I'm sorry for the long wait again. Family issues have been brewing up every day now, and it's had me down for a while. It's getting better though!

Just wanted to give another shout-out of thanks to Karategal for editing these chapters for me and helping me with grammar/spelling/etc. Thank you so much.

Well, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Warning: Another cliffhanger. xD

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen: The Battle for Bumblebee, Part III**

**Inside the Decepticon Base: Bumblebee's Confinement Cell **

Fear refused to leave Mirage. Despite it all, deep down, some sort of a new determination simmered. Well, it felt like it.

Every tiny shift and stir Bumblebee pulled in his hands kept his tender ambition alive in his mind – The preservation of the little one's lifesource. The mission just could not be a failure.

His servo cupped under Bumblebee's skidplate and propped against his back and doorwings for support. Bumblebee bucked back into Mirage's chestplate at the sounds of Megatron's approaching footsteps, bowing his little head. His wide optics shut. He listened for the soothing sound of Mirage's spark and whimpered.

Megatron was approaching. Mirage stroked Bumblebee slowly, refusing to reroute his attention from the mouth of the cell.

But, soon, he did, scanning the interior for anything that could be of any use – for something to advance him one step closer to freedom. Mirage's optics fell over the vertex of the adjacent corner, mere feet from his camouflaged position. If he could reach the corner, make a move from there to the next corner, and finally the last to flip the switch, it would be all over. Freedom would be yielded. He would be out.

"That corner…" he whispered above a quiet chirr from Bumblebee. He glanced down. "We have to reach it. Think you can make it, little one?"

Bumblebee sniffled.

"Your end is near," Megatron spoke. "Every one of you Autobots are nothing, but excuses for warriors. That youngling will not fall to a pathetic fate as one of your kind. The orn will come when he is a warrior of my Decepticon army…"

Bumblebee covered his audios, suddenly shivering at the slow trickles of tears that slid from his optic ducts. He whimpered muffled words into Mirage's spark chamber, slowly lifting his miniature servos to set them against the warm spark chamber. Mirage thumbed across the yellow helm, then to the back of the bot's neck, drawing lazy patterns as he clutched Bumblebee a little tighter.

"Shhh, don't cry," the guardian soothed.

"I will not stop until the mechling is in my custody." The shing of the steel flail sounded. "...Understand that, Autobot."

The mace began to revolve high in the air, catching the dull rays of dreary floodlights, grazing the confinement cell walls until full crevices were bore. Metal chips, again, fell like rain onto the Autobot's in hiding, and thankfully the sound of the sliding shreds was secreted by the flail's _shing_ing.

The chained weapon exited the radius of danger toward Mirage, giving him the perfect opportunity to initiate his plan for freedom. He darted alongside the rear wall of the cell, taking a lunge to set both feet in the corner. His shoulder panels squared with the vertex, and he turned to Megatron. He clutched Bumblebee.

The Decepticon had stopped.

Mirage pressed his invisible form into the corner – Yes, _invisible_, yet why was Megatron headed for his direction, straight for him? Blood red optics gleamed directly into his ocean blue pair, a smirk fixed on the 'Con's faceplate. And Primus, that sound – the flail was being dragged across the ground, screeching. Mirage turned Bumblebee's face away, feeling each and every groan and shudder to bot shuddered out, each and every terrified beat of Bumblebee's spark.

"To think you thought you could hide from me," Megatron hissed. "You must know it's easy tracking _two_ energy signatures, each so close together." His footfalls ceased. "Foolish mistake, Autobot."

Mirage's air intakes fluttered in his chestplate, every thought in his processor becoming an unorganized jubilee of chaos, a mess of fear that rooted him to the ground. Fright screamed 

core-wrenching words in his processor, a clutch of Bumblebee's frame being his only way to subdue it.

If he moved, Megatron would only chase after him. His invisibility gave a little more of a chance of survival – Mirage stopped himself. His camouflage levels – How much of it did he even have left to spare?

His processor ran the diagnostics, went through every program and circuit necessary.

He calculated quickly. He needed a _number_…

00:02:09.

Two Earth minutes and nine seconds until his levels would drain.

Was that enough time?

The mace was raised, aimed, and thrusted. Mirage darted, clutching the bot against his chestplate. He tumbled swiftly on a shoulder panel. The weapon struck down at his side, and again, again, over and over – chasing him, striking the ground each time. The harsh impacts sent him off balance onto his back. He squirmed backwards. A pain snaked up the wires in his side, and Mirage had no choice but to ignore it. The flail had hit him after all.

00:01:54.

Megatron began pacing.

"Pathetic coward…"

Mirage leaned a shoulder panel against the wall with a deep draw into his air intake valves. He tried his best to quiet the sharp breaths that rushed in and out. Panic drove his systems to near overload as the flail lashed down against the cell's flooring, smashing and carving into the metallic ground.

A hailstorm of debris fell against Mirage. A fearful sob from Bumblebee hit his audios, and trickles of the bot's energon tears smeared across the mech's chestplate. There was no time to comfort the little one.

The flail lashed against his side. With a groan, Mirage felt his frame shudder under the impact of the blow, pain escalating. Suddenly, he rose, dashing alongside the wall to a corner. He practically instinctively merged into the shadows, adjusting his hands to make sure Bumblebee was perfectly nestled against a particular nook in his chestplate.

Megatron walked about the cell, scanning.

The bot nestled whimpered quietly beneath frantic hums of his guardian's spark, turning his wide optics to the looming 'Con.

Recollections he thought he had forgotten were reopened in his memory core. He stared into the optics of this Decepticon, this monster in his young optics. It was one of these monsters that had murdered his mother, and another monster had taken his brother.

The bot sobbed, remembering his mother's servo reaching out to him as she spoke her final words. He remembered how it felt to curl upon Sparkfire's chestplate and watch the holoscreen during evenings. He missed it all – so dearly, _too_ dearly. If only his father's smooth, soothing voice would murmur in his audios. If only his father's arms could be holding him – if only he didn't have to be here…

And he would never get the chance again.

00:01:22.

Each second drew them toward two fates – Freedom, or death. It was as if they were on some sort of conveyor belt, drawing closer and closer to a fork in the assembly line. Once they reached the mouth of this fork, it would throw them to either of two ways, granting them life or death.

Every second, they drew closer – inch by inch.

Mirage groaned in pain and distress. His levels were draining, quickly, and sooner or later, hiding would do no more good. He would have to fight the Decepticon – and not to mention _stall_ until reinforcements arrived.

He dropped his optics to where Bumblebee was in his servos, feeling a small set of hands latch onto the fore of his arm. To his own surprise, he smiled.

Why his mouth curved, he didn't know why.

His digits brushed across Bumblebee's foreplate before making their way down the invisible bot, to his faceplate. Mirage frowned at the tears wetting the tips of his fingers.

"I'll go it all for you, little one," Mirage barely sighed through every sense of nervousness, looking back up at Megatron who now drew close. His optics widened as the flail suddenly rose into the air, locked for him.

He braced.

"I've had _enough_, Autobot."

00:01:01.

Mirage darted just before the steel spikes struck the ground, grunting quietly. Bumblebee nudged roughly into his chestplate, crying out. The weapon struck again and again, nearing him in such short astroseconds. The sound of the weapon clanging into the flooring rung in his audios. Mirage knew he couldn't avoid the upcoming blow, not this time, and shut his optics in the horrible anticipation. Bumblebee whimpered under the mace's rattling chains, clawing at the Autobot's spark chamber.

"M-Mmm…Muh-Muh-Mirage…"

Mirage clutched the little life tighter. He braced again, frame ridged.

He knew what was coming.

A digit swept across Bumblebee's helm.

"Hold on…"

00:00:49.

Pain abruptly. Energon flowed down his leg.

Mirage reflexively parted a servo from Bumblebee to his thigh, grimacing as he caught sight of the wound inflicted upon his metallic skin.

…Caught _sight_. Wait.

Mirage shot his optics to Bumblebee. His little form was barely visible, almost ghost-like, but it was certainly there.

Slag, his cloak was already wearing away?

Before he could contemplate _anything_, spikes struck again in another graze across his leg, becoming caught in sensitive wires, forcing his leg to jerk out. The spikes dug deeper and tugged his wires.

Even more pain.

A groan refused to be swallowed down, dragging from his oral circuits. Bumblebee shuddered at the sound, his tiny mouth barely murmuring his guardian's name. Mirage could hear him, yet he didn't respond – He couldn't.

The spikes forced his thigh to jolt forward and again tugged. It pulled him along, so deep in his wound.

Bumblebee shuddered as his guardian's spark skipped. The pain inflicted on Mirage's body was more he could imagine. His spark struggled to supply. Energon deprived his systems.

Bumblebee watched Mirage's faceplate begin to flourish into view.

"M-Mirage…" the bot murmured barely. "…N-No."

A desperate groan left the guardian.

00:00:33.

Mirage blinked his optics and peered down to the where mechling shuddered, soon shooting his gaze up suddenly as the mace began revolving yet again. Megatron would not cease –not until he was _offline_.

He couldn't let that happen.

00:00:25.

They were practically visible.

Mirage gasped. He caught sight of his own servos around of the wound on his thigh and his side. He cringed, falling onto his back panels. He tried to breathe deeply. Bumblebee's optics glimmered with a layer of tears, and the bot's faceplate scrunched in terror. His tiny mouth wriggled before he spoke.

"M-Mirage, you're - " A miniature servo raised toward his guardian's thigh.

"Shh," the mech hushed and gently moved Bumblebee's servo from near his wounds. He buried his small faceplate into his spark chamber. "Don't you worry…I'll be fine."

There was a raw edge of pain in his voice.

Bumblebee pulled his head from Mirage's chestplate, staring up at the Autobot. With every astrosecond that passed - with each that passed without a word of reinforcements - they were only nearing the brink of death.

The mechling knew too much of death, but one thing – What did it feel like to be in sheer pain, and to die a painful death – like his brother, his mother, his father…

Bee, horribly, considered the questions _yet to be answered_.

00:00:12.

Megatron ceased immediately at the sight of Mirage and Bumblebee.

"Well, well, well…What do we have this time?" Megatron mused, pacing.

00:00:00.

The cloak was done.

Mirage's spark shivered inside him. He contemplated on the spot – What _could_ he do? What did he have on him? His processor scanned and told him.

A rifle, shoulder-mounted electro-disruptor…

Mirage smiled slowly.

An _optical illusion_. That was it.

The Autobot stepped forward. Bumblebee wriggled in protest.

"M-Mirage…!" he chirped in fear. "Wha - "

"Trust me…" A smile.

Megatron's optics slitted. "Wipe that smirk off your face."

Mirage only grinned wider. The shoulder mounted electro-disruptor activated without a hesitation, momentarily altering Mirage's appearance. Mirage hurriedly slipped further from the corner that had once veiled him, stealing a glance back to an optical illusion of himself and little Bumblebee, standing in the shadows. Megatron glared at it, suspecting not a thing. Mirage wanted to laugh, but held it in.

Bumblebee's servos pressed against Mirage's spark chamber whilst he stood in his guardian's palm. He giggled quietly at the much duped Decepticon.

He chirped softly and pointed to the switch only feet away. Mirage moved to flip it.

"Yes!" Bumblebee cheered in a careful voice.

Mirage was ahead of the bot, already stepping a foot forward, his mouth open and ready to whisper a, "We did it!"

…When the cell sealed, clicked locked, and fastened.

"Primus, _no_…" Mirage whispered in disbelief. "You _can't_ be serious."

They had been so. Close

His optics flicked to Megatron, fear burning like blue flames. Bumblebee cried out, shuddering uncontrollably. Mirage let him.

They were slagged.

Megatron laughed and moved the tip of a claw from a switch attached to the wall beside to the cell's mouth.

Now they were truly _locked_ inside.

"To _think_ that you even thought you could leave so easily…" the 'Con laughed again.

Mirage quaked suddenly, clutching Bumblebee as he moved away from the Decepticon, trying to create as much a distance as he could muster. Megatron knew his move before Mirage even drew it out, whipping the mace against the Autobot's back in the blink of an optic.

More pain. Horrible.

Mirage cried out, falling onto his front. He automatically curled inward, instinctively cupping his servos around Bumblebee to protect the little life. Bumblebee shook frenziedly in absolute terror. The little one longed to get out of this place – a place, to one so small, that looked as immense as the Pit itself. Sobbing, Bumblebee nestled against Mirage's neck, hugging it tightly. He watched his guardian's optic lids flutter, felt a groan rattle in his throat.

Megatron approached. Bumblebee swirled around. He gasped.

"Pl-Please, don't h-hurt me…" the bot's voice shook.

Mirage's spark twisted.

The 'Con wasn't going to hurt any bot – yet. His flail struck the ground again – harder than ever – and sent Mirage soaring to a corner. He grunted, feeling his back panels slam against the walling, blue optics flickering. He groaned.

"B-Bumblebee…" He stirred. "Bumblebee, you okay?"

He looked down to Bee in his hands…

The mechling _wasn't_ there.

Mirage's breath hitched. "Bumblebee!"

Megatron's laughter resounded. "You fool!" Laughter again.

Mirage's optics shot up, rounding in horror. "No!"

Bumblebee lay sprawled on his back in the center of the confinement cell, the bot's wide blue optics fluttering weakly. An open wound ran from his tiny tank plating to his side, leaking energon and pooling slowly beneath his bright yellow frame. Bumblebee whimpered with a small groan– Helpless, so innocent.

"No!" Mirage said again, struggling to his feet despite the pain.

He charged blindly at Megatron without the slightest idea as to what he was doing. Megatron pushed him aside with a hand, chuckling at his dimwitted move.

"Your luck has run out, Autobot," he said bitterly, wrapping his claw around the wounded youngling. Bumblebee squeaked, his breath shallow, seeming to be the last breath to ever leave him – so frail it was.

The sight of pale blue blood running and dripping between Megatron's claws made Mirage's fuel tanks churn, his spark to wrench painfully. Tears stung his blue optics for the first time in vorns, his mouth fixed in a sorrow filled frown.

"Bumblebee…" the Autobot breathed.

How could he have let the bot go?

'Bee's body lay limp in Megatron's claw, his optic lids lowering.

"No," Mirage choked.

The 'Con chuckled and curled his hand into a tight fist. Bumblebee's frame groaned as it was crushed slowly in the claw's tight grasp, a shuddering, nearly breathless cry rasping through the air.

Mirage grimaced and looked away. He could still hear tiny air intakes huffing, Bumblebee's internal systems trying to rev to better status, only groaning in such impossible tasks for the bot. Mirage thought he heard Bumblebee breathe his name.

"_W__hat have I done_…" Mirage murmured, slowly returning his gaze. "I've _failed_."

Megatron tilted his claw, letting Bumblebee drop onto the cold, metal ground without the slightest care in the universe. Bumblebee's body managing to shutter in excruciating pain. Mirage refused to look.

"You left me with _no_ choice," Megatron spoke with no trace of sympathy. He aimed his fusion cannon for Mirage.

"Let us finish this…" He stepped forward.

**xXx**

**Thereafter: Outside the Decepticon Base**

**Approximately One Breem Later**

"Hold…" a deep, gentle voice ordered. "Look."

Elita One kept her form close beside her sparkmate's with her pistol lying against a pink shoulder panel, her white digits tightly clutching around the weapon's grip. Her optics fixed to where Optimus Prime was indicating, to the Helicopter-disguised Decepticon transforming above its home base. His rotary blades beat the air like a furious drumbeat. It's feet dug into the ground, a mighty form straightening.

Elita sulked back subconsciously, watching the Decepticon from feet away.

She nearly scoffed. "It's only one."

"We cannot underestimate the Decepticon, Elita One," a mellow voice murmured above her audio. She turned her optics to watch Optimus' lips curve into a small smile, his own blue optics looking directly into hers – almost through them. His laser rifle clicked as it was attached to his back, snapping gently into its proper place.

Elita made no comment towards his, only frowning at the sight of Blackout. Her optics fell to the pistol, watching it lower to her breastplate. Her digits caressed it oh-so-gently. She swept the fores along its frame, twirled lazily along the muzzle's circumference, swopped down the curve of the trigger. The tender gestures reminded her of stroking a sparkling – then, Bumblebee.

A sigh passed her lips.

"What of the youngling, Prime," she basically muttered.

The smile on his faceplate disappeared. Optimus looked at her, forcing his tone of voice to remain unwavering. "What of him?"

"Have you heard from Mirage?"

As if by magic, static began hissing in his audio receptors - an incoming communications channel. The call struggled to establish between Optimus and whoever was attempting to contact. Optimus accepted the succeeding transmission, angling his shoulder panels from Elita's. His mouth opened to speak, but the caller beat him to the catch.

"Op-Optimus, please. Come in, commander." A groan. "…Come in."

"Mirage…" Optimus breathed, his faceplate retracting. His head bowed. "What is the problem? What's wrong? Is Bumblebee - "

"L-Listen," Mirage interjected, his oral circuits straining to produce his normal, smooth voice, instead shivering forth a bare whisper – desperate, raw in pain, frightened perhaps. Optimus couldn't decipher. A shaky draw of air shuddered inward to Mirage's air intakes before he spoke. "Megatron's left. Bumblebee a-and I alone in this cell…a-and he's taken Soundwave with him." A short cough, metal squeaking as he propped upright. "Bumblebee…He's injured – greatly. I have him right now…in my hands, Prime. His spark's weak. I'm not sure how long he'll be online. I can stay online until reinforcements arrive." Mirage sighed. "…H-Hurry…"

The weak plea echoed.

Optimus was at a loss of words. His metal lips slowly parted, ready to give Mirage the reassurance he knew the warrior wanted to hear. He couldn't. Optimus reviewed Mirage's wrenching monologue.

Bumblebee was nearing death, at the doorstep, moving closer and closer to the brink with every passing moment. His optic lids fell, a sigh leaving him.

Mirage stirred on the other end. "Are you there?"

Optimus nodded. "I'm here, Mirage…What's your status?"

"I'll manage, don't worry about me. Preservation of Bumblebee's lifesource is our essential goal in this mission anyways." A weak chuckle. "I'll live."

The commander grimaced at Mirage's delicate, weak tone of voice. He forced it to be ignored. "I'll be at your location as soon as possible."

"How will you do that?"

"I'll track your energy signatures," Optimus replied. "Until then…hang in there. And do your best to preserve Bumblebee's lifesource. Keep him online."

"I will. I would never let him offline, Sir."

A faint smile ghosted Optimus' lips. "Excellent…Commander out."

"Mirage out."

A click killed both COM channels.

Elita One slowly approached her sparkmate, letting a servo loosely clutch her pistol alongside pink-armored thigh plating. Her blue optics drooped at his, soft features held in disarray, and even a trace of fear.

"What's wrong?"

There was no right way to tell her.

"Elita…" Optimus sighed, both of his strong arms wrapping around the slender waistline of his candy colored femmebot. Elita's expression was confused, her optics droopy and perplexed – His faceplate, conceivably sympathetic and solemn. His optics dropped. "I must depart from you to combat Megatron in the Decepticon base, and aid Mirage and Bumblebee."

Elita's optics widened. "Optimus, no! You - "

Optimus shook his head. He wasn't finished. "I must, Elita," he murmured. "Both Mirage and Bumblebee are fighting to stay online – Bumblebee's own status being the worst of them all. His lifesource is too tender, Elita, I know you know this. The sooner I depart, the higher chance of his survival."

"It's _Megatron_!" she whispered heatedly at him. "He'll offline you in an astrosecond."

Optimus sighed. A gentle servo lifted to cup against one of Elita One's cheekplates as he leaned forward in their embrace, pressing his metal lips against her own in a soft kiss. Her optics seemed to be layered with a thin layer of tears as they cast to Optimus', watching him pull away only slightly, keeping his mouth near to hers.

She frowned and murmured, "For all I know, this could be the last time you kiss me."

The mech shook his head. "It's not like you to think such things, Elita."

She shrugged, optics to the ground. "There's a first time for everything," the mutter tumbled out. "…Especially when it involves _Megatron_."

She looked back to him, lying a servo against his cheekplate. Her digits stroked his war-roughened faceplate tenderly, feeling its facets shift as a wide smile curved his lips. She smiled back, stroking to his helm. "Promise me you'll be alright…"

Optimus nodded slowly. "My love, don't worry." He kissed her again. "I will return to you."

Elita One let herself fall against his chassis, letting his arms meet the slenderness of her frame, letting his servo stroke up and down the curve of her metallic spine – the soft indentation. Her audio unconsciously slid to his spark chamber, letting warm beats hum a soothing song to her. Her optics fell shut. Moments like this, she never wanted them to end.

"Optimus, everything okay?"

Elita opened her optics as Optimus' mighty frame shifted beneath her, both of the couple's pairs of optics shifting to the Arcee and Hot Rod pair a few feet away from them. A nod from Optimus was the only reply, his blue optics dropping to Elita's. His arms uncoiled.

"Until I return, join Hot Rod and Arcee. Be cautious when combating the Decepticons." He gave a half-smile. "Contact me if there are _any_ malfunctions."

She nodded. "I'll rendezvous with you later then…"

Another nod reflected hers.

Before he departed, she took his servo. Their optics locked.

"Be…careful. _Please_," she begged softly, now taking his servo with both of hers.

Optimus smiled. "I will, I promise you." A small chuckle. "You need not worry."

She only nodded to kill this doubt arousing in her.

Optimus turned away, but she still held his hand. Before the very second of his departure, she gave it a squeeze.

For good luck, she guessed.

**xXx**

**Inside the Decepticon Base: Bumblebee's Confinement Cell**

There were two clicks. A groan. Valves clacking softly as weak breaths of air were drawn. Another groan…cough, whirr and chirr. A twitch, a sigh, a whimper. The sounds of an offlining Bumblebee.

Mirage's spark twisted.

The Autobot lifted his helm from the wall, optic lids fluttering as he cast a lazy gaze down at the mechling in his lap. Bumblebee's cheekplate lay on his thigh plating, a small yellow and black frame splayed lifelessly amid his crossed legs. There was no movement, only tiny blurbs and chirps of pain.

Mirage used a hand to gently slide Bumblebee's head further back on his thigh, thus letting his digits barely sweep over the tender body, stroking over the chestplate and stomach-side plating injury. Energon stained the tips of his fingers. He smeared it, rested his helm back against the wall, though keeping his optics fixated on Bumblebee.

His audios picked up 'Bee's faint ventilations – sluggish, withered…

He cringed. "Don't give up, Bee," he whispered, stroking. "You'll be okay…" He sighed. "You'll be alright…M'here."

He thought he heard Bumblebee murmur his name.

Maybe he did. Perhaps it was his processor playing tricks on him. He didn't know.

Mirage's servo tilted slightly, lying against the soft nooks of Bumblebee's spark chamber. The little one's spark beat weakly, struggling under an overload of pain. He could only caress Bumblebee's soft, expressionless faceplate, twirling the tip of a digit around yellow antennae, drawing weary shapes into flat doorwings.

Bumblebee would usually react to a situation like this with a smile, upturning wide optics and a giggle bouncing from his oral circuits – maybe even clapping his tiny servos together as he hopped up and down.

That's what he _would_ do.

Now, he was absolutely still, almost dead silent. Dead…

Mirage twitched.

No, no. Just _silent_. Silent. Not _dead_ silent, no. Bumblebee wasn't _dead_.

His optics shut. He groaned.

Alone in this cell – for now at least. If Megatron were to return or not, he didn't know. Mirage hadn't mentioned to Optimus what had just gone underwear in this Pit of a cell. His optics fell to the scorch mark inflicted on the left of his chestplate. A simple, light brush across the mark with his palm made him jolt.

Megatron's cannon had scarcely missed his spark, had scarcely missed the one sweet target that would offline him. The thought made him cringe.

Bumblebee's faceplate scrunched, his body barely wriggled. A tiny series of coughs made his frame shiver. A small servo slid across Mirage's thigh. Mirage wondered if Bumblebee was dreaming.

He eased Bumblebee's hand into the palm of his own, clutching the tiny thing. Bumblebee coughed into his thigh again, drawing in a fragile breath, frame shuddering in the struggle. Mirage thought he saw Bumblebee's optic lids flutter, but they were only shutting tighter.

The bot once again fell silent, leaving Mirage in a painfully heavy quietude.

He heard nothing, but the thrumming beats of his spark and the revs of his internal systems working to repair him of his wounds. His cheekplate against the cool wall, his lids 

sagged. He kept Bumblebee's servo clutched whilst brushing to and fro, lightly caressing the small body.

His processor drifted. What would Bee's fate arise as? Online, offline…

What about his own? Would they even _win_ this battle for the mechling's custody?

There was still _Megatron_.

The reminder crushed his thoughts.

Destiny would do its rightful task.

Mirage flicked his optics to Bumblebee as the bot's oral circuits became active again. Sighing barely, he stirred, being more than careful as he cupped his servos around Bumblebee, lifting him to a crook of his neck. Bumblebee's limp body splayed across a shoulder panel, his head allowing Mirage's digits to adjust it at will.

Swaying back and forth, Mirage could only wait and let time click by.

He listened to Bumblebee again, closing his optics.

A groan, a whirr. Three coughs, then an inhale, and a shiver…

**xXx**

**In the meantime…**

It grew, stronger and stronger as he neared this one face of the base, and this one only.

The energy signatures were promising.

A click established a private communications channel between Mirage and himself. There was a groggy hum on the other end, followed by a deep inhale to Mirage's air intake valves.

"Sir?"

Optimus' head bowed with his gaze. "What's your status?" He had to check on him.

There was silence. "I'm holding. Don't you worry about me, Optimus…" He sighed. "It's just Bumblebee I'm concerned about. He hasn't been showing many signs of responsiveness."

Optimus started moving again. "Hold you position. I'll be with you as soon as I can find a way inside."

A hum of acknowledgment, and another weak sigh. "Y-Yes…Sir."

Optimus winced. "Hang in there."

There was no response.

The COM channel whirred dead.

**xXx**

**Inside the Decepticon Base: Bumblebee's Confinement Cell**

**Three and a Half Breems Later**

Mirage's vision grew sharp, then fell blurry – Sharp, blurry, sharp, sharper, a little blurrier and all was dark again. He felt a servo lay against his cheekplate, tapping him lightly to stir his sensors. Mirage heard his oral circuits release a groan as he tried to lift his helm from the cold floor, but a pain up his back forced him to comply and lie back down.

_Whoever's_ servo lifted away from his cheekplate, and it was then when his vision became its sharpest, focusing on the mech who knelt above him.

He sighed gratefully. "Optimus…" His mouth kept forming words, wanting to talk, but for some reason he couldn't. The back of his processor kept telling him to shut his audio unit and recharge, but he couldn't do that. Not now at least.

"What happened?" Mirage asked softly.

Optimus patted his fellow warrior's hand, looking to the wounded one's melted optics. "I believe you passed out, Mirage. But now, don't strain your oral circuits," he ordered in a hushed tone. "Your energy signature is weak…Conserve every bit of energy in your systems that you can, you understand?"

Mirage began to nod slowly, then halted. "But-"

"Mirage," his name was sighed with a soft glare. "Quiet."

Yet, he continued. "…What about Bumblebee?"

With his optics blinking slowly, the commander nearly grimaced as he rotated his chassis, reaching behind him with what seemed to be extreme caution. Mirage didn't understand.

Astroseconds later, however, the sight's horror was all too evident, and he couldn't help but comprehend. His optics widened at the sight of a motionless, limp Bumblebee scooped in both of Optimus' large hands.

Optimus gingerly laid the bot atop Mirage's shoulder panel. Mirage looked to Bumblebee, releasing a painful sigh through his vents. His digits eased the bot closer to his faceplate as he grimaced, wincing at the poor youngling. 'Bee looked even worse.

A groan left Mirage.

The mechling practically felt and certainly looked offline against his shoulder panel, worse than before – just lying there, unresponsive, little optical lids sagged over once-glowing optics. His energy signature was the faintest they get.

The tiny groans, whirrs, and coughs from Bee had long before stopped. He was completely silent, except for the sound of his internal systems revving barely. Mirage thumbed over each limp doorwing, and then to Bumblebee's helm, releasing a sigh as he slowly moved to a corner.

Optimus frowned at the sight, his optics drooping. It was fascinating how in such little time, the mech had grown so attached to little Bumblebee. Then again, the bot was innocent, completely undeserving of any sort of pain. Any Cybertronian who couldn't feel for such a delicate creature, by Primus, were they twisted.

The Commander didn't interfere with Mirage and his silent mourning. He let a breem pass by, then another, scanning over his processor, going over what had just happened in the battlefield.

Mirage's optics slid to the mouth of the cell. He wondered if he tried real hard to somehow slip between those bars – masked in active camouflage. No, Megatron would surely notice his disappearance and send his 'Con troops after him. Escaping would only heighten this situation.

He closed his optics. His jawline angled to rest alongside Bumblebee's spine. The mechling didn't do the slightest as to even pull out a little wriggle. Bee only lay flat on his stomach plating, his faceplate ghosted with that haunting shadow of lifelessness – that pale, nearly phantom like dusk beginning to take over his infantile faceplate. Mirage stroked Bumblebee worriedly, shaking his head. Finally, the silence was broken.

"Optimus, what're we gonna do?" he whispered, stroking deeper. "Sit and wait? And see what happens?" Troubled optics lifted to Prime. "Bumblebee's lifesource is on the line, Prime, we can't stay here."

The commander bowed his head and knelt beside the soldier. "Mirage, I'm sure you know we cannot just leave. Decepticon forces are all around the base. Outside these very walls. At least one will notice an Autobot mech cradling a mechling across and outside the battlefield."

Mirage huffed, opened his mouth to speak, but shut it. His optics turned to Bumblebee. "I just don't want - "

"You don't want Bumblebee to suffer."

"Or _offline_," Mirage cut in, looking to Prime. "I've never felt so worried."

Optimus half-smiled, despite the situation. He lifted a hand to set it on Mirage's, the ones that tenderly held the wounded youngling in such a protective manner. The Commander's hand patted twice. "Bumblebee won't offline, Mirage. I promise you." His finger gave the bot's doorwing a light tap. "His spark is a strong one, don't you know that? A very strong one."

Mirage smiled faintly. "Yeah, I know," he nodded. "…I know now."

The commander smiled.

As much as Optimus wanted to continue reassuring his comrade, there was no time. Footsteps began sounding down the hall. Commander's optics flicked swiftly **in** their direction 

before redirecting unto Mirage again. He pointed to a corner, one adjacent to where Mirage now sat.

"Mirage, camouflage, and hide in that corner," he ordered in a whisper. "But, don't drain your energy too quickly. Conserve for as long as you can."

Mirage nodded, dashing to the corner. In that time, his camouflage rendered him invisible in the shadows. He checked the little Bee still limp on his shoulder panel, tucking him away in his lap, cradling him in his palms. Whilst stroking the mechling's invisible frame, his optics returned to Optimus who now was on his feet again, laser cannon ready.

Megatron appeared at the entrance.

Optimus' optics narrowed.

"Fancy seeing you here, Megatron," he spoke lowly.

Megatron's scarlet optics glinted and flared. "Likewise, Prime," the Decepticon growled. As he began scanning the cell, Optimus nearly jolted in realization. The Autobot knew who Megatron was searching for – _Bumblebee_. He wanted the mechling. For what? It could be anything. Whatever the intentions, they would certainly be a sight.

Optimus' optics heated. No, Megatron would not get his claws on Bumblebee.

Not again.

Optimus would get Bumblebee away from this Hellhole, or offline trying.

**xXx**

**Unknown Location – Beyond the Outskirts of Battle**

Starscream landed on the soil on his perfect landing, red optics turning to watch his subordinates descend to the earth in liquid grace on either of his sides. The two were hooting in laughter, and Thundercracker shoved his fellow minion in the shoulder panel. Starscream didn't understand what was so funny, only arching an optic ridge at the two.

"What in the universe is so funny?" he demanded.

Thundercracker volunteered to reply. "You destroyed that Autobot like he was nothing!" the jet subordinate exclaimed.

Starscream smiled. "I did, didn't I?"

Skywarp stepped forward, grazing his shoulder panel with Thundercracker's. "You bet. That's the last time those Autobots will ever underestimate the Seekers."

Starscream simply looked off to where the 'Con-Bot battle still underwent – heated – to where energon was shed and laser cannons were charged. All over something so fussy, really. All over the custody of one particular little Autobot mechling. Over some bot named Bumblebee.

Skywarp's inquiry broke the thoughts of the 'Con second-in-command.

"So, what'do we do now?"

"Yeah," Thundercracker interjected softly. "We've done our job, and we deserve - "

"Mute it, I'm thinking," Starscream hissed, crossing his arms across his chestplate. He contemplated for astroseconds of silence, and when an underhanded, crooked grin came about his faceplate, both subordinates exchanged confounded looks, optic ridges arching. Skywarp was the one to question the Second's devious smile.

"Care to tell us what's so amusing?" the jet asked, perplexity ever present.

Starscream craned his neck to meet both pairs of their red optics, smile growing. "We will be returning to battle."

"For _what_?"

"Think about it!" the Second spat, turning his angular set of strutted shoulder panels to his Seeker minions. "Suppose…" His grin grew. "Suppose Megatron is…_defeated_."

Thundercracker waved his servos. "No, no, no. He's not gonna lose!"

"We're talkin' about _Megatron_ here!" Skywarp interjected.

Rage sent the Second's claws to fists, and a heated flare to both of his optics. He spun around with an angered hiss rattling in his audio unit, infuriation ever evident about his features. "Megatron CAN be defeated! He's a normal mech like you _and_ me!"

Skywarp arched his optic ridge. "You emphasized the, 'and.' Are you trying to imply something?"

Starscream's features crumpled to confusion. "What're you talking about?"

"It sounded like you were trying to avoid us thinking you were abnormal…"

Thundercracker chuckled. "Well, I wonder where he got that idea."

"ENOUGH," Starscream demanded. "What I _meant_ was Megatron does not possess any instrument or weapon that makes him a better mech than _me_."

No one begged to differ.

"Saying he is _defeated_ by the Autobots and the mechling is to be extracted from the base's confinement cell to theirs, we can launch another attack on them and destroy every last Autobot, but the youngling, of course."

"As they make way to their base," Thundercracker spoke.

"Exactly."

Starscream turned away from them, hiding the cunning smile that curved his mouth.

He added in a murmur to himself, "And _afterwards_, I can finally crown myself as the new leader of the Decepticons."

**xXx**

**Inside the Decepticon Base: Bumblebee's Confinement Cell**

Mirage's features cringed at the sound, the sound of his commanding officer's back panels slamming against the wall, grating against the metal with a horrible, audio-splitting sound. Megatron's hands dug into Optimus' shoulders, scraping the red and blue metal. The combating mechs soon brawled closer to Mirage's position, and the Autobot found himself gathering the wounded Bumblebee in his arms and scurrying to the other corner, active camouflage functional.

His form collected to a tight bundle, Bumblebee in his arms. The youngling. Still, limp, lifeless, it seemed. The bot was now uttering tiny groans and anguish-drenched whirrs from his tiny audio unit. He was making sound. That gave Mirage some sort of relief, yet his spark wrenched at every sound. His fingers could only stroke away at Bumblebee's faceplate, could only fondle with little antennae, one at a time, slowly. He wondered if Bumblebee found any relief from his stroking.

He wished there was such thing as control of time. He wanted to be breems from now, at their base, caring for the suffering youngling whose spark faded away even more with each passing moment. If fate would allow them to even take custody of the precious one.

Mirage looked in the direction of the cell mouth. The bars were no longer blocking off the exit, they were gone. Well, of course they had to be. Megatron, after all, did enter not long ago. The thought screamed at him. _Escape!_ They could escape, and get Bumblebee to freedom, to shelter, to safety.

The Autobot looked now to his combating commander. He couldn't just leave. What if Optimus needed him? Needed assistance? Mirage couldn't leave…But, then again, he could. Slag, what to do?

As he contemplated, he watched Optimus fall to the ground from a strike. But, he was soon on his feet again, aiming his laser cannon right at his approaching target. Laser fire detonated, Megatron took it without a flinch. The spiky mace struck the side of Optimus' chassis, and the Commander leaned into a corner, tackling Megatron's shoulder panels with his hands. The two were locked in a fist fight yet again, pure hate glinting in both of the mechs' optics.

Mirage diverted his attention to Bumblebee when the bot mustered a tiny twitch of movement. The Autobot furrowed his brow. Was the bot trying to tell him something, or was it simply just a little squirm? Maybe Bumblebee was looking up at him right now, trying to see his face. If he could only disable his camouflage and see the little one. Just for a bit…

Mirage leaned forward. "Bumblebee?" he whispered.

A tiny groan came back at him.

Mirage's optics rounded. The bot was _responsive_?

He looked back to Optimus and Megatron wrestling against the wall, scraping their metallic frames. He couldn't contact Prime. He had to go. He would be back…

So, he gathered the bot in his arms and made a dash for the cell mouth, exiting off into the hallway. Here, he scurried to another corner and knelt, glancing in the direction of the cell to make sure no one heard his departure. Sensing nothing unusual, Mirage deactivated his camouflage cloak, finally revealing to his optics the limp bot in his hands.

"Bumblebee," he murmured. "Can you hear me?"

The bot mustered nothing this time.

Mirage tried again. "Bumblebee?"

This time, the mechling suppressed a tiny groan, one small hand sliding to grip one of his guardian's fingers. The grasp was weak, loose, but it was something. Mirage thumbed a yellow foreplate.

"You'll be okay," he assured, flinching at the sounds of laser fire behind him.

He thought he felt Bumblebee jolt.

At instinct, he brought the mechbot to his chestplate. Bumblebee lay limp, allowing Mirage's hands to readjust his frame. The bot could barely angle his head toward the stroking. A dying whimper left his throat with a tiny breath. Mirage grimaced.

"Shh, shh, shh," he soothed. "No more of that."

'Bee moaned.

He opened his mouth to speak, but was interjected by further gun fire. Metal clashed. A mech collapsed; He was unaware who it was that went down. No one was speaking, no one was laughing. Mirage glanced over his shoulder, an audio perking at the sound of building laser discharge, electricity crackling, warming. After astroseconds, finally, it was detonated, held for seconds upon seconds…

And all was silent.

Mirage gulped. Who had gone down? Who was defeated?

His fingers trembled. He stood, slowly making his return to the cell.

On the short trip there, he only wondered.

If it was Optimus who was defeated, should he blame himself?

After all, he wasn't there to aid him.

* * *

As you can see, I'm very fond of cliffhangers in my stories.

Please review.


	15. Chapter XV: Friend or Foe?

Finally, huh! Chapter 15. I apologize, yet again, for the long wait! School just started and what not. You know how it is. I'll be updating as soon as possible, folks! I'm not slackin' off!

Anyways, enjoy this chapter! Hope you all like it.

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen: Friend or Foe? **

**Outside Bumblebee's Cell**

Mirage stood there in the corridor, his circuits frozen. Immobile.

Quite frankly, he didn't really want to know what had happened at the end of that battle. Even if the aftermath was just what he was hoping and praying for, nonetheless, he did not want to know. A sense of fright ate at his spark and only made his unwillingness to move swell inside him.

Would he ever go and look? Of course.

Just not at the moment.

He let a couple cycles pass. A sort of guilt and unease roused in his tanks, sickening him. Tentative digits began stroking Bumblebee's lifeless faceplate, sliding downward to trace the little contours of his tiny chassis. Mirage looked down at the 'bot and passed a sigh. Was that a whimper he heard? He didn't know. It didn't really matter.

His digits stroked slower. His processor began to scream at him.

_Enough wasting time_.

_He's dying._

_Go. Move, before it's too late…_

Reality struck him like a punch to the face.

He knew that with every passing cycle, Bumblebee's lifesource grew dimmer and dimmer and dimmer. The rim of death neared the little one. He could either act now, or let another ten cycles fly by – ten seemingly mere cycles that could be essential to 'Bee's restoration.

Mirage pushed out a sigh.

"…C'mon, 'Bee," he finally whispered. "I've got to get you out of here."

He carried himself to the cell, prepared to accept whatever the sight may be – the sight soon to be in his optics. Even more already started to settle in the pit of his tanks, and he subconsciously held Bumblebee tighter.

His spark began to quicken.

_What if's_ ran through his processor.

What if Optimus _was_ online? What if he wasn't?

What if Megatron was waiting for him to turn the corner, waiting for him to step in the perfect line of fire?

_What if, what if, what if…_

The inquiries hushed the instant he arrived.

Rounded, blue optics scanned the interior of the cell almost too intently, fearful of the unknown and the yet to be discovered. There was Energon spattered in random splotches on the floor. The walling was dented from the two mechs' brawl, burnt from laser and fusion fire, bent in, and scuffed.

And, there _he_ was.

Megatron, propped against a wall, lay motionless. Blood red optics flickered, his arm's fusion cannon puffing a continuous cloud of smoke into the air. Megatron's motionlessness, however, didn't mean he was completely offline. The Autobot knew this, and he hesitantly entered the cell. He kept careful distance.

The atmosphere held an awkward eeriness about it. Hearing nothing but his footsteps and a fading enemy leader made him cringe.

A cycle or so passed.

Footsteps – he heard them. Blue optics lifted to the approaching form, someone all too familiar and unmistakable. He gaze rounded a little once his processor searched his memory banks for a designation match. He made a sound of relief.

"Optimus," he uttered with a little uncertainty. "Thank Primus."

The Commander didn't respond so quickly. His armor was scorched on some sections of plating - battle worn, dented and scratched. There was a wound at his side, a gash trickling Energon onto his thigh plating. Before Mirage could fully examine the infliction any longer, Optimus' hand clutched the area, covering it from his sights.

"Optimus…" Mirage said his name again. "Are you - "

His words halted as Prime pushed out a soft groan, taking in a trembling ventilation before he spoke.

"I'm fine, Mirage. I'm fine," he claimed gently. "It's nothing too critical."

Mirage thought otherwise, but didn't rebut.

Optimus adverted dropped his optics to the mechling, passing a slow sigh at the doleful sight. His gaze remained there for astroseconds before lowering to the floor.

He shook his head. "Bumblebee…"

Mirage dropped his optics as well. "…Unresponsive. He makes sounds to my voice on _some_ occasions, but otherwise, he's too weak to answer me."

Optimus nodded slowly. "We have to regroup as soon as possible. The sooner we reach headquarters, the better."

Mirage nodded once. "Absolutely."

Prime established a private COM-link frequency between himself and Elita One, waiting for the static to subside and white noise to quiet. It took a few astroseconds for the channel to clear.

"Elita, Optimus," he informed. "Status report."

The femme stammered shortly. "Optimus? Is Megatron defeated?" she insisted, brushing his question away for a moment. She paused, bringing the pain in his vocal patterns to her attention. "…Are you alright?"

Optimus nodded aimlessly. "Yes, Megatron is defeated, Elita. He shouldn't be a threat to us any longer. And as for myself…" He glanced down at his side. Energon was starting to ooze against his palm and seep between his digits, running down the back of his hand. The ache ate away at his frayed circuitry and wiring, pulsating with such a sting.

He passed a soft sigh, trying to rid his vocalizer clean of any pain. "I will hold."

"You're positive," she questioned.

"Positive."

Elita proceeded to answer his initial question. "Blackout's been down for a few cycles now. There's no sign of any other Decepticon threats either. My scanners haven't detected any…" She paused. "We've been regrouped at the outskirts for about four cycles, waiting for you and Mirage...and the mechling."

Optimus acknowledged. "Send me your coordinates."

"Already done."

The commander couldn't help, but smile. "We'll be with you shortly. Optimus out."

"Elita One, out"

One click terminated both channels.

The Autobot commander met the optics of his soldier, stepping forward to further approach him. Initiating a scan of his companion, a harsh reminder of struck his processor. He had forgotten that he was not the only wounded Autobot…

"You're status," he started. "…Your Energon levels are low."

Mirage seemed a little struck by the statement, as told by a sort of perplexed glint in his blue optics. He lowered his gaze to the wounds inflicted on his form – his side and upper leg. A cautious servo brushed across each injury, and his digits withdrew as an ache rattled his circuits.

"I'll manage, Prime," he assured.

The _real_ truth was, his entire system ached within. Standing on his own two feet was nearly a challenge in itself, but he forced his processor to overcome the matter and concentrate on one thing. His little ambition– precious Bumblebee.

If anything, he did not want Bumblebee to offline.

That was his one and only prayer.

**xXx**

**Outside: Outskirts**

**A Couple Cycles Later**

"Can you tell what's wrong with him?" Mirage's asked softly, a tinge of regret tugging at his tone.

Ratchet's scanners analyzed the mechling's cold, near-lifeless frame, cradling him in tender servos and gentle digits. He opened the 'bot's tiny chest compartment. All optics watched a weary, blue spark pulsate under the burden of a horrible struggle, the struggle to stay online. 'Bee was barely hanging on. The Medibot sighed regretfully.

"You can't really have a diagnosis for this, other than, 'practically offline…'"

Mirage winced. Those weren't the words he wanted to hear.

"He's still able to be _restored_, isn't he? His lifesource…" Elita asked hesitantly. "He's not offline."

Ratchet nodded slowly. "It's possible to return him to full consciousness, yes, undoubtedly. However, the sooner we get to the base and get this 'bot to the medbay, the better. His spark's fading…slowly, but still." He closed 'Bee's chest compartment with a slow shake of his head. "We better get moving."

"How long would you say we have, Ratchet?" asked Optimus.

"A Megacycle, _tops_," the medic responded. "Beyond that, and Bumblebee's chance of returning online will be very slim. Close to none. It'd be a complete miracle if he returned."

**xXx**

"I _knew_ this day would come. I knew it, I knew, I _knew_ it," Starscream exclaimed in his alt. mode, swooping in a happy, graceful incline. He situated himself in front of his two subordinates. "Megatron finally _cracked_! And now, I can crown myself as…the _new_ leader." He laughed. "Lord Starscream…It's _Beautiful_."

Thundercracker pushed out a huff. "I _beg_ to differ. I'll give you one stellarcycle as the new leader of the Decepticons…"

Starscream was far too busy crooning over the situation to throw a snappy comeback.

"…Enemies ahead," Skywarp rained on Starscream's parade. "The Autobots are attempting to escape the grounds."

Starscream stopped his vocalizer. His scanners shifted to high alert, analyzing the ground below for any energy signatures.

Scanning, scanning, scanning…

Energy signatures were locked.

"Aah', there," he grinned. "Autobots, most definitely. Making a run for it. Just as we presumed."

"…Awaiting orders, Starscream," Skywarp said. "Should we fire on them?"

"Of course!"

Heated nullray fire blossomed at the tips of his weapons, locking a perfect shot for the escaping enemy. With no ado, laser blasts seared through the skies, impacting the land below.

One battle might have been over, but another had just begun.

**xXx**

In mere cycles, the rightful headquarters would be in their sights, and _finally_, the mechling would get the proper treatment his fragile lifesource so dreadfully hungered. Mirage only wished, as did every other Autobot, the absolute best for their dear Bumblebee. The thought of losing such a precious lifeform was a _nightmare_ to all.

Ratchet returned Bumblebee to the hands of his guardian. "Here. Take him."

Mirage pulled the 'bot close to his spark, lowering his optics to the little one's faceplate.

"Thanks, Ratch'."

As he dropped his optics, the realization to how much Bumblebee meant to him struck his processor. 'Bee was that little spark in his lifecycle. He couldn't do without it. If this little spark were to die, fade away for _eternity_, a huge part of him would offline with it.

Imagining a life without 'Bee…He cringed.

His dreary thoughts were shattered at the sound of blaring nullray fire.

_More_ _Decepticons? _

Their attempted retreat could not be pursued. Bumblebee's lifesource was in jeopardy. If they couldn't shake the threat in due time, Bumblebee's spark chamber would be an empty shell in a matter of time.

Mirage would not let that happen.

"Return fire!" was Prime's order. All Autobots lifted their weapons.

Nullray fire streaked through the dreary skies, piercing with sharp colors, only to be returned by Autobot laser fire. Every blast grazed Decepticon alloy, or ended up being dodged effortlessly. Nonetheless, the battle only grew heated. Activity didn't seem like it was going to end any time soon.

Mirage clutched Bumblebee away from the nullray blasts, aiming his own weapon for Starscream, the leader of this unexpected attack. He aimed with no ado and fired. Armor piercing darts lashed through the air, only to latch to the jet's alloy. Starscream wobbled to lower altitude, failing to regain himself. He ended up in the ground, but the other two Decepticons carried on, nonetheless.

Sunstreaker shot his optics to Elita One and narrowed his gaze. His mouth bent. "I thought you said there were _no more signs_ of any Decepticon threats."

The femme made a face in return. "I don't know why I didn't detect them. They must've retreated further away than my scanners suspected."

Nullray blasts seared by Mirage's faceplate as he took position behind a hunk of rubble for cover. Heat washed over his shoulders as the fire did not cease. Instinctively, he pulled the weary mechling against his spark chamber. Bumblebee's little form hung limp in his hands, like a ragdoll. Tender fingers supported his tiny head and skidplate, stroking at the 'bot's wound. Bumblebee uttered a soft noise of ache. Mirage withdrew his fingers.

"Sorry, little one," he crooned with a cringe. Instead, he stroked Bumblebee's faceplate.

So desperately did he want to retreat from this battle and get 'Bee somewhere safe. A sickening feeling, sort of like paranoia, roused inside him. He feared for the little one's safety. If they were here in a megacycle, even half of a megacycle more, he knew Bumblebee was condemned to offline.

And, he told himself again, he could not let that happen.

Blue optics fell to the 'bot and a sigh passed Mirage as he traced Bumblebee's emotionless features. He cringed again, not only at the spark wrenching sight, but at the ache that attacked his leg and side. It burned. He felt his systems fading in and out of consciousness, begging him to shift himself into stasis and rid himself of all the pain. The urge to was atrocious, but he knew he couldn't.

Mirage leaned against the rubble and started to turn his gaze to the battle. However, he looked up into the optics of Ratchet, who had knelt beside him.

"Something wrong?" the Medibot inquired, initiating a scan of Mirage. "Your energy signature's fading…Slowly, but nonetheless…" His voice drifted off. "You didn't tell me anything."

Mirage gestured to his thigh and side. "I'm guessing you didn't notice my injuries," he said softly as he indicated his wounds. "Megatron gave them to me not even a megacycle ago."

Ratchet brushed a light hand over the infliction on his side. "You're losing quite a bit of Energon…"

Mirage diverted his gaze. "I'll hold. This shouldn't last that long…"

A sigh. "_Seriously_, Mirage. Will you be able to make it?"

"…I can feel my systems fading in and out, and my processor's a little light," he clarified. Mirage shook his head. "Nonetheless, I'm fine. Really."

Ratchet shook his head. "Let's hope these Seekers are out of here soon. The momen-" Nullray fire seethed over their heads, hitching his words in midsentence. He began again. "…The moment we get to the base, I'm patching you up."

Mirage nodded, but a mental stab to halted him. His blue optics lifted to the Medibot's with a contradictory stare. "No. Don't."

Ratchet quirked an optic ridge. "What are you talking about_?_"

Mirage down to his hands. His fingers stroked the Energon seeping wound that ran from Bumblebee's tanks to his side, letting the blue liquid stain his fingertips.

"…I want Bumblebee back to _perfect_ status, first, before anything or anyone else." His tone was soft, but solid. "Please. Just do that for me."

Ratchet bent his mouth. "Perfect status isn't obtainable - "

"You know what I mean," Mirage lifted his optics. "The mechling's too young in his lifecycle to offline now. Our mission was to _rescue_ him from a condemned future as a Decepticon warrior, meaning we would have to _preserve_ his lifesource."

"I understand that, Mirage."

A pause as fire soared past them. "Just promise me you'll keep him online," Mirage said as he ducked a little.

Ratchet nodded slowly. "I promise." He turned his optics over to Bumblebee and frowned. He eased a gentle finger against the 'bot's emotionless faceplate, stroking his tender features slowly and gently.

"And I promise to _you_, Bumblebee, to keep you online…"

**xXx**

Thundercracker swooped upside-down, charging his weapons for a particular lone Autobot. His nullray blasts streaked the air, but only seethed the ground beside the Autobot. Close, but no cigar.

He huffed.

Thundercracker fired a second time, this time striking the Autobot against the leg. He barrel rolled, wobbling on his wing joints until he was leveled vertically. He thrusted forward with a jolt of his engine and swooped upward, redirecting his route back down the path just traveled. His scanners fell over Starscream, immobile in outside the battlegrounds.

"So much for our '_new_ leader," he sighed.

His continued scanning.

Nothing – No, what was this? Two Autobots hiding behind cover.

"Skywarp, two Autobots behind that debris," he announced via COM-frequency. "_Obliterate_ them."

**xXx**

Nullray blasts continued to rain Hell, and it seemed the Autobots' attempts to shoo away the Decepticon threat were proving to be nothing but futile. Return fire, back and forth, back and forth. It was unceasing.

Quite frankly, Mirage was growing tired of it. He was sure he was not alone.

Why couldn't they be home?!

He only wished the Seekers had retreated for _good_ and never bothered to stick their noses in their business. They had been _so_ close to freedom – _so_ close to home. Once they were over that hill, the pathway to headquarters was clear as anything…

"Sideswipe!" Ratchet's voice cut into his thoughts. The Medibot sighed. "He's been hit."

Mirage looked up.

The Seekers swooped overheard in accorded fashion, their engines whining into Mirage's audios. Laser fire sustained and he lifted his optics to the skies, watching the blasts graze the Decepticons' alloy. Some of the shots hit, but did nothing critical.

"Ratchet, take Bumblebee," he insisted.

The Medibot took the mechling into his hands with a nod, and cradled the fragile being against his chestplate.

Mirage readied his weapon.

Questions – they haunted his processor, yet again.

_How long would it be when they'd finally be at their rightful base?_

_How long would it be until Bumblebee returned fully online? _

_Would Primus even allow Bumblebee to live?_

Destiny was the one controlling Bumblebee's lifesource, and even Mirage's own.

He could be offline in a megacycle. Bumblebee could be out in a matter of cycles.

In spite of it all, giving up was not an option.

His weak form trembling in the struggle, he curved a digit around the trigger, taking careful aim for one of the two fighter jets. His finger eased inward, sending armor piercing rounds to the skies.

**xXx**

Jaryn took the newfound skirmish into his optics. He soaked it in, mulled over it, and took in a little more. He watched laser and nullray action trade off and on, back and forth, to and fro… He had seen his poor Bumblebee in the Medibot's hands – lifeless, motionless…Was he offline? Or, were his systems were still fighting, hanging on? He couldn't sense his own son's lifesource anymore. It just wasn't there…

_… I have figured out,  
How this world turns cold and it breaks through my soul.  
And I know I'll find deep inside me I can be the one._

Blue optics flicked to the skies, narrowing a little as armor piercing rounds latched to the underside of one of the fighter jets. In astroseconds, they were no more. They detonated.

The Seeker swiveled in midair, swerved in a 180 degree turn, and blasted away from the battle. Smoke coughed from his engine, leaving a grazing trail against the underbelly of the clouds. The second fighter jet didn't hesitate to fire down on the enemy. Most of the blasts only seared the ground, yet others grazed Autobot alloy.

Jaryn looked away.

_I_ _will never let you fall.  
I'll stand up with you forever._

He couldn't stand on the sidelines any longer, especially when the Autobots were _so close_ to freedom. Nearly there.

All too familiar sounds – a few clicks, whirrs, chirrs, and hums – resounded in his audios, the sound of his arm cannon readying for battle. He began to advance. His processor became plagued by images of that dreadful day. He couldn't help but remember it. That one day that happened so long ago, yet stood alive in his memory banks like a brand new idea.

_You're my, my, my true love, my whole heart.  
Please don't throw that away.  
'Cause I'm here for you.  
Please don't walk away and please tell me you'll stay._

_Stay._

There was no backing out. He had been the bystander for far too long.

_I'll be there for you through it all.  
Even if saving you sends me to heaven._

His shoulder cannons unleashed. "Do or die."

**xXx**

Mirage stood prepared to fire another blast of rounds at the remaining Seeker, the last threat. He locked a perfect shot, and curled his finger around the trigger. His gaze narrowed as he focused the fighter jet in his sights. His finger moved inward …

…When the sound of unfamiliar footsteps stopped him in the act. His blue optics flicked to where the noise came from, round as they scanned the area intently.

Who was it? _Another_ Decepticon?

No.

He laid eyes on an Autobot he had never seen before. The perfect stranger.

Due to instinct, he braced, but dared not lower his weapon.

The mech's form was a warm yellow striped against black, brawny with broad shoulders and an angular pair of doorwings, seeming to be a machine utterly designed for war. Anyone scanning attentively enough could definitely conclude that his mech's faceplate held the same features as Bumblebee – just, in a mature version, of course. His framework was virtually no different from Bumblebee's, with exceptions to the arm and shoulder cannons.

A _strange_ coincidence.

Optimus Prime caught a glimpse over his shoulder and lowered his rifle to mid-thigh. Every pair of blue optics watched this unidentified mech lift his arm cannon up at the skies, taking aim of the last Decepticon threat. A bulb of plasma swelled at the tip of his arm cannon, and blossomed on each of his shoulder cannons, growing denser with every astrosecond. The blasts brewed full-fledged. Unison, they lashed to impact the Decepticon's chassis.

The fighter jet swerved in and out of control, struggling to muster control. He managed to alter his route down the path Skywarp had retreated on. Energon leaked from his chassis as he thrusted forward, engine screaming, only to disappear in astroseconds.

Quiet. Heavy quiet. It was abnormal.

The Autobots lowered their weapons and turned to face Jaryn. No one said anything.

The mech disabled his weapons. Finally, Optimus approached him.

"Designation?" the Commander insisted skeptically.

"Jaryn," was the answer. The mech lifted a hand to the Autobot insignia at the center of his chestplate. "I'm an Autobot."

Sideswipe made a sound. "I 'unno, Prime. He could be a Decepticon - in _disguise_."

"…After he saved our afts," muttered Sunstreaker.

Jaryn ignored and gestured to Bumblebee. "That mechling is my creation. My _son_," he told them firmly. "I've been watching you and your entire force here for the last countless cycles…waiting for the perfect moment to come out to help you all."

Everyone exchanged questioning glances.

"Why didn't you come sooner?" Chromia inquired somewhat hesitantly.

Jaryn sighed and started to clarify. "…I lost Bumblebee long ago when our unit was attacked…My sparkmate was tragically offlined in the incident, and I searched for _eternity_ to find Bumblebee. Why didn't I come sooner? I was afraid, truthfully, of what could happen to me." He paused. "I only want your trust, and permission to come to your base – so I can see Bumblebee and be reunited with him."

"M'not convinced," Sunstreaker put bluntly.

Arcee stepped forward to Prime. "Optimus, Hot Rod and I came across Jaryn several cycles ago," she told him. "What he's saying _is_ _true_."

"He could have lied to you too," Ironhide put out.

Mirage, honestly, did not know what to believe. Jaryn could be a true Autobot speaking nothing but fact, or a Decepticon in disguise lying to get Bumblebee in enemy claws.

Mirage looked to Jaryn. He noticed that his optics were fixed on Bumblebee. There was a sort of pain and sorrow in his weary gaze – internal suffering. Mirage sympathized, but 

nonetheless, he would not give up Bumblebee until his processor was completely convinced by Jaryn's tale.

Optimus looked to Jaryn. "…You may come with us to the base," he decided. "If you truly are the Autobot you say you are..."

Jaryn nodded almost too quickly. "I swear, Sir."

Mirage held Bumblebee a little closer. He hated his processor for holding a protest a against Optimus' decision. He couldn't help himself. After all they had gone through, it was only normal to grimace at his Commander's verdict.

They started over the hill. There was a happiness alive in his spark, happiness to be going home, but he did not let it show on his faceplate.

Could Jaryn be trusted?

The answer would be evident in only a matter of time.

* * *

**_There it is._**

**_Review please._**


	16. Chapter XVI: Where Are We Going?

Hey, I'm back! Miss me? Haha. So, here we go with the sixteenth chapter. I hope all of my readers enjoy their read. I know I sure had fun writing this chapter, I don't know why...But, it was fun. Lol. I'll update with Chapter Seventeen as soon as possible, okay?!

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen: Where Are We Going? **

**The Autobot Base**

**Medbay**

Ratchet had begun to doubt Bumblebee's chance of survival as he analyzed the monitor before him, noting the machine's readings of the mechling's vital signs. The little one's spark was intact, his ventilations were normal, but his Energon levels were nearly at critical levels, due to the extent of his deep wound. The Medic turned on his heel and approached the little Autobot lying on a berth, lifting his servos. He situated two stylus-like instruments in either one, and then aimed the nozzles for the gash running down Bumblebee's tender chassis.

A light-blue ray emitted from one of the instruments, slowly began mending the frayed circuitry and wiring, sealing the gash. Ratchet's optics lifted to Bumblebee's faceplate as he heard a tiny groan. The Medic shook his head and continued trailing the ray along Bumblebee's wound.

"Quiet, quiet," he sighed. "You're all right."

He wondered if Bumblebee had heard him.

The second stylus emitted a similar beam across the Bumblebee's chestplate to ensure the wound's sealing. Ratchet set the instruments down and watched his skillful fingers carefully open Bumblebee's tiny chestplate. A spark - a pale, blue light in the chamber – thrummed, weary from Energon deprivation.

Reviving the little one would take more than regular Energon. A thought crossed the Medibot's mind. A direct energy transfer. Bumblebee's lifesource would most definitely be restored, no doubt…The only problem, who would be the energy donor. Ratchet knew Mirage would be more than willing to sacrifice his lifesource…

And there was Bumblebee's creator, Jaryn. Surely, he would help his own creation.

Ratchet perceived another quiet noise from the berth, and he looked downward. The little one's features cringed softly, then returned to blankness – sedate - that ghostly serenity. Ratchet absently brushed his fingers against Bumblebee's leg, sighing.

"You'll be online in a matter of time, little 'bot," he said softly. "…Hang on for us."

**Mirage's Quarters**

Alone in his personal quarters, Mirage subconsciously brought his hand across the wound on his thigh. His processor kept him fixed in a daydream of worry. He kept mulling over the extent of tender Bumblebee's horrible injuries. One minute, he would be convincing himself that the youngling would return to a healthy status in a matter of time. But, doubts and harsh reality would get the best of him, and he was forced to realize that Bumblebee's lifesource was on a 50/50 decision – all in the hands of fate.

The hands of time controlled it all.

There was a knock at his door.

Breaking from his thoughts, Mirage shifted himself to his feet and moved to enter the proper keycode beside the portal. The doors unhinged and slid apart. Ratchet stood before the threshold, with Bumblebee's Creator standing a little ways behind him.

Mirage blinked his optics. "…Something wrong?"

The Medibot waved a servo, beckoning.

Mirage stepped back, his blue optics never killing their glint of perplexity, and slight fear. Before he could open his mouth, the Medic addressed him with worry ghosting his faceplate.

"Mirage," he started with a small sigh. "I have news about Bumblebee. It seems his lifesource will not make enough progress quickly enough for him to survive. The Energon I'm supplying him just won't do." He paused to gaze steadily into Mirage's faceplate. "It'll take another spark's energy to save him."

Mirage blinked again. He stammered. "Of course… I'll -"

"No, let me." Jaryn interjected and stepped forth with a servo outstretched between him and the other Autobot, as if waiting to accept a handshake, or pleading Mirage to accept his decision. His own blue optics lifted to meet those of the mech before him, and he looked firmly into Mirage's faceplate, his complexion somber.

"Bumblebee is my son. I'm his Creator. The least I can do to help him is donate my own lifesource for his survival. And given your situation," he lowered his servo and sized the other mech in his sights. "...You're in no place to sacrifice your spark. You're wounded."

Ratchet slowly agreed, nodding. "He's right, you know. I should've known better than to ask you." He sighed gently as his optics glanced over the Autobot's dented alloy and scraped plating, noting the frayed tips of wiring slipping through the openings in his armor. "The extent of your injuries...Your spark wouldn't be able to handle a direct energy transfer. Your system needs every ounce of Energon it can maintain."

Jaryn made a sound of agreement. "Besides, you kept my creation out of the Decepticon hands through that entire, horrible event..." He paused as recollections washed over his processor. He resumed a couple seconds later. "Even if you could provide life to Bumblebee, I wouldn't let you, Mirage. After all you've done."

The other mech let a faint smile tug at a corner of his mouth. "I had to, and I wanted to," he spoke to both Jaryn and Ratchet. "Bumblebee is a precious Cybertronian. There was no way I was letting his spark extinguish."

"And neither will I," Jaryn promised. "This energy transfer will be successful."

He threw a glance aside to the Medibot, who gave a reassuring nod before adverting his optics to the wounded mech before them both. Ratchet shook his head at the various inflictions wreaking the Autobot's form, weighing down on his spark's effort to continue, weakening him little by little - gradually, but surely.

Ratchet stepped forward. "I want you in the Medbay in no longer than two megacycles. If you're not treated sooner or later, you'll grow too weak to function properly."

Mirage held a steady, firm gaze at the Medibot. He shook his head. "Ratchet, I'm fine. I'll hold until this evening."

"This evening?" the Medic echoed him disbelievingly. "Ridiculous. You better - "

"I told you I'll be fine," Mirage repeated while he turned to face his berth, resettling himself atop its edge. "Please. Believe me." He paused, then resumed. "I want your attention, _all of it_, on Bumblebee. One hundred percent. Undivided. _Everything_."

Jaryn smiled a little at Mirage's passion for his mechling. He looked to the Medic.

Ratchet made a face at such insistence in Mirage's tone of voice, quirking an optic ridge, before he turned away. Perplexity became replaced with somberness. He sighed deeply. "As long as you're positive."

"More than," Mirage replied quickly. "Now, hurry...Bumblebee's waiting. He needs you."

Jaryn was the first to make his departure from the Autobot's personal quarters, passing the threshold with a small glance over his shoulder panel. His optics met Mirage's for a mere moment, flashing faint gratitude in his direction. Ratchet followed with nothing more to add, and the portal hissed and clicked secure automatically, and all was silent once again.

Mirage, alone to the peace and quiet of his quarters, extended his form across the cool berth, cringing his facets softly as an ache snaked up his side. He rested his head and gazed up at the ceiling.

All at once, an emotion attacked his mainframe. Daze washed over his processor, blurring his vision, and puzzling his visual receptors. He didn't know if he was in the midst of a delusion, or if his systems were faulting. It was most likely the latter. His spark skipped a thrum or two, palpating in its chamber. His systems struggled and his circuitry sent awkward sensations along every inch of his form. It was an inevitable evidence that he was, indeed, fading. Slowly, very slowly, but nonetheless...His systems moaned faintly.

The mech took the moment to lower his optic-lids. He concentrated on his ventilations, concentrated on remaining calm. Nevertheless, his efforts were deemed futile as haunting reminiscences reappeared in his mind - as vivid as any time before. He saw everything, and heard everything from the battle -, the Decepticon threats and raging warfare

...And then there was Bumblebee.

Mirage forced his optics open, but the images did not vanish. His fingers shifted, sensing the young Cybertronian's miniature form shifting against his palm, and his chestplate felt the mechling huddling deep into his spark chamber for protection from the warmth that resonated from the metal. Mirage remembered listening to the bot's voice, the pleas for reassurance, whimpers, cries, and sobs. He could see a wide, pair of blue optics looking up to him, searching his faceplate for faith and comfort, only to droop when none was seen. And such innocent features gazing up at him tugged at his spark, wrenched it beyond words.

Bumblebee would not leave his mind.

The little one's image haunted his processor, and he could only imagine the suffering the young mech endured right now...

He imagined how Bumblebee felt at the moment…Lying in a cold, unfamiliar Medbay, hoping someone would sacrifice their own lifesource for the sake of yours.

Putting your life in other 'Bot's servos.

**Evening**

All was quiet in the headquarters, too quiet.

An eerie quietude weighted down on the atmosphere and seemed to burn Mirage's audio receptors as he walked down the corridor, heading for the Medbay. It was like no 'Bot was home. Such silence made him uncomfortable - it was like something had completely gone wrong. Like someone had just died, and this was the aftermath, the mourning part.

_No, no. No one died_, he told himself. _Don't think like this..._

Pushing out a sigh as the Medbay door opened, he passed the threshold, letting his optics skim the room. Immediately, a chill washed over his frame as he met a new atmosphere. Busy machines and devices chirred and droned away in their work. Ratchet was nowhere in sight, but there...Someone else certainly was.

Jaryn.

Mirage approached near-silently, keeping his gaze fixed on the other mech's broad form. Jaryn had his head angled downward, his optics locked on his creation who lay motionless atop his little berth. Jaryn brushed his fingers delicately against the top of the tender mechling's head and shoulder panels, sensing Bumblebee's cold form. Tubes connected the creator to his creation, thick tubes from Jaryn's open chestplate to Bumblebee's. Both of their sparks were exposed, washing faint, blue light over each of their frames.

Mirage remained cautious as he stood next to Jaryn. The sight of Bumblebee sunk his lifesource to the pit of his tanks.

He didn't speak until his words finally unhitched from his throat. "...Is the energy transfer working?"

Jaryn threw a glance aside to Mirage, then back down at Bumblebee. "Slowly…If there isn't enough progress made in the next megacycle or so, I'll have to try a direct energy transfer." He looked to Mirage. "Merging my spark with his."

Mirage nodded. "He'll recover," he assured.

Jaryn didn't answer, instead turning a worried glance down at his creation. His thick fingers continued to brush against the little mech's form, caressing every contour, stroking and tracing every outline. Mirage watched with sorrow, wishing he could do anything to aid, feeling guilty he could only sympathize and watch.

"Has he responded to you at all?"

Jaryn shook his head. "He's only moved - barely."

At this moment, the portal slid open with a lengthy hiss cutting into the quietness in the atmosphere, and both mechs looked in the sound's direction. Ratchet appeared, passing the threshold with a datapad held skillfully in one of his servos. He approached an empty berth, saying nothing to either one of them for at least a cycle.

"Your berth's set to go, Mirage." He turned, absently glancing down at Bumblebee. "…I know it's hard to break away from him…But, he'll be fine."

Mirage spared a final, mournful gaze to the motionless bot. One part of him wanted to stay at Bumblebee's berthside – the part of his processor that would not believe the Medibot's words or reassurance. Yet, another part – his anguish-ridden systems – begged him to lie down on his berth and obey Ratchet's orders.

The latter ended up overpowering his mainframe, and he slowly strode away from Jaryn's side to approach Ratchet.

The Medic's careful servos aided the wounded Autobot onto his berth. Mirage laid flat on his back panels with a deep sigh, as if he were expelling all feelings of concern, worry, anxiety, fear, and all the like from his system.

His optic lids fell for a moment. "Ratchet, are you sure 'Bee'll be okay?"

Ratchet reached for Mirage's chestplate to open its compartment, revealing a complex array of wires and circuitry, and a struggling, although thrumming lifesource. As he assembled a few tubes into his patient's chestplate, he nodded his head slowly.

"I assure you, Mirage." There was a brief pause. "Don't worry. Just rest."

Mirage said nothing more.

Turning his optics in Jaryn's direction, he watched the lonesome mech stroke the area of his mechling's spark chamber. Such sorrow ghosted complete mourning in Jaryn's faceplate, so much that his blue optics appeared clouded. Mirage was uncertain if whether or not Energon tears were welling in the mech's optics or if he was just transfixed on Bumblebee's image.

"Go into standby, soldier," were the Medibot's orders.

Mirage gave a truly last look to Bumblebee as he offlined his optics and lowered his lids. The precious image of a smiling mechling was shown vividly in his mind. He cringed at the wrenching picture of Bumblebee, wishing to witness the bot's smiles again, hoping the bot's precious lifesource would remain online for centuries to follow.

He shifted into standby, a prayer running through his processor.

**One Megacycle Later**

A larger berth had been placed beside Bumblebee's smaller one, for Jaryn. The Medbay was nearly silent. Mirage had slipped into recharge and Ratchet had left the room not long before. Bumblebee still hadn't shown outward signs of recognition towards his creator, but his spark kept a steady rhythm as Jaryn's own lifesource continued to feed it.

Turning his gaze aside to his mechling, Jaryn's optics flared with an awkward enthusiasm. He quickly glanced around the Medbay before lifting his form onto the floor, reaching his servos out for the bot's tender frame. Bumblebee's motionless form simply hung limp in the mech's wary clutches, his small head becoming supported with a couple thick fingers.

The tubes connecting their lifesources were gently eased away and out of their spark chambers, the mechling's chest compartment eased open a little more to further expose his brilliant spark. Jaryn gazed steadily into the little one's sedate faceplate, moving the tiny spark closer to his own. Immediately, their sparks' auras brushed against one another in a protesting greeting, pulsating in uncertainty. Jaryn couldn't help, but utter out a sound of relief. He could sense their Creator-Creation bond for the first time in so long – Had it been eternity?

The invisible barrier that separated their sparks was broken.

Bumblebee's fragile form writhed as his lifesource met the powerful one of his Creator's. The mechling's spark thrummed at his father's very core, so much that Jaryn could sense almost every individual palpation, each thrum stronger than the one before it. Energy surged in a gleaming flash of light, an intense light that washed over the fronts of their forms. Jaryn looked away only for a moment.

Bumblebee began to make noises of refusal, his form squirming for a sort of mercy. He was _responsive_. Despite the protesting sounds his son made, Jaryn continued the energy transfer for over a cycle more. He made sure their cores bonded – deeply, to ensure that the necessary amount of Energon flowed to the little one's systems.

And finally, their sparks eased away. In unison, their chest compartments folded secure.

Jaryn looked into his young mech's faceplate, wishing to see any acknowledgement in his precious features, squinting his optics in a silent plea. He waited.

"Bumblebee," he murmured. "Look at me."

And, finally, success.

Wide optics flickered themselves online and took on their familiar baby-blue hue, all while a tiny grunt pushed from the young one's waking vocalizer. Bumblebee stared up at Jaryn as if he were a complete stranger, holding a fixed gaze on the mech's faceplate. Jaryn's own optics warmed to an affectionate blue color, and his mouth curved to a tender smile, as he brought his servo against the little one's doorwings. His laughter sung beautifully in Bumblebee's audio receptors.

"Bumblebee…"

The mechling's optic ducts welled with tears. "Dada?"

Jaryn smiled wider and nodded once. "Little one…" He stroked his helm. "You're online."

The bot gave into his father's tender gesture, craning his small head deeper into the warm palm that rubbed him. He knew this mech before him. He recognized his loving vocal patterns, his beautiful laughter, and his unforgettable faceplate.

Tears of disbelief trickled down the bot's cheekplates in thick rivulets, streaking the alloy faintly, as he lifted his servos needingly towards Jaryn's faceplate. The mech did not hesitate to clutch his son against the warmth of his spark chamber, letting the soothing thrums of his lifesource coax the little one to faint cries, then to no more. Bumblebee nuzzled his head into the warmth, closing his optics with a soft whirr.

"Dada," he murmured into his father's chestplate. "It's you." He looked up. "You found me."

"I saved you," the mech responded. "I brought you back online."

Bumblebee blinked. "But...How? I thought you lost me."

"No, no..."

The mechling twisted his features softly. He searched his memory banks. "...What about Megatron?"

At the sound of that name, Jaryn suddenly looked up.

As fast as his affection had came, it was gone. His features became somber.

His mission. He could not ignore it.

The mech turned his shoulder panels in the direction of the portal and quickly started to exit. Perplexity took to the mechling's bright optics, and his little face looked up to his Creator, innocence ever present on his features. His smaller form twisted. He looked past Jaryn's form, noticing that they had already reached the corridor.

Where were they going? What was going on?

"Dada?" Bumblebee questioned softly, clawing at his Creator's alloy. "Dada, where are we going? Why are you leaving?"

"Quiet, Bumblebee." Jaryn gently brought his servo against the little one's face, blocking his view of the corridor. The mechling's wide optics blinked. His Creator seemed to be heading for a very fixed destination, his strides quick, though not panicked or hurried. Jaryn knew where he was going.

"Dada," the bot called again, his spark quickening.

Jaryn eased his son further into his chestplate in attempt to hush him for good. Bumblebee, nevertheless, uttered a soft whimper up at his creator, uncertain, perplexed, and a little frightened. His optics began to glaze over with pale Energon tears.

His Creator's behavior was so…unusual. Bee couldn't help but be afraid.

Where were they going?

A cool, new atmosphere washed over them both.

They stepped outside.

* * *

Muahaha.

Review, please.


	17. Chapter XVII: Trick of Deception

**A/N**: This is a short chapter, and has been named the finale of the entire fiction. Who knows? I could throw in another chapter some other time in the future. But, otherwise, this is the final chapter of A Fighting Heart. I know. Some of you might be a little disappointed. Please, don't be. I'm so happy this fiction was given so much praise and applause, so much I never expected to receive on this little idea of mine. **I thank all of you**, and especially Karategal for all of her prior edits to my chapters and all of her amazing advice. Thank you so much!

Enjoy the end, folks.

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen: Trick of Deception**

The blaring cry of a distress signal shook Optimus from a deep cycle of recharge. He didn't hesitate to lift himself to his normal stature, despite the sense of fatigue that had enveloped him. The mech moved to the portal with weariness in his stride, the familiar blue-hue returning to his flickering optics. From down the corridor, the sound of Autobots hurrying from their quarters to where the alarm reached him. Where were they hurrying to? The Medbay.

Optimus only did so much as to quirk an optic ridge and narrow his gaze. What could be the reason for this unexpected distress call? Surely, something was wrong, that was no duh. But, what? At this hour?

Had something gone terribly wrong?

Walking towards the alarm's direction, he could only ponder negatively…

Bumblebee – Had something happened to him? What if Ratchet's dire attempts were not enough to suffice the hungers of Bumblebee's tender spark? Or was it Mirage? Was he failing? And Jaryn…The energy transfer, was it futile?

Question after question. Worry after worry. They only brought doubt and heartache.

_… Anything could be wrong._

A servo at his side curled to a loose fist. As terrible as it was to admit, if anyone was fading, he hoped it was anyone, _but_ his precious bot. The image of Bumblebee returned to his processor, and he saw the mechling uttering the three words, "I love you," before smiling at him with his baby blue optics. He heard a giggle, a tiny whirr…Felt a kiss.

"Bumblebee…"

His spark twisted with a greater sense of dread as he approached the portal of the Medbay. It was already ajar from prior enterers. He passed the threshold with a quiet sigh of hope, perhaps in a silent prayer, as he moved gently through the crowd of Autobot soldiers. Ratchet stood before everyone. Taken by the regretful glint in his droopy gaze, bad news were only inevitable. Optimus cleared his vocalizer for no reason, truly.

"Ratchet," he spoke, heeding to the gentle tone of his voice. "The distress call…"

The Medibot dropped his optics to the flooring.

"…Bumblebee and Jaryn…"

Silence.

A gentle servo lay on the Medic's shoulder panel, and at the tender gesture, Ratchet glanced up to the warm optics of his Commander. He pushed out a small sigh. "…They're gone. They've disappeared."

The hand slipped from his alloy.

"….Gone?" murmured Optimus in an echo.

"Gone?" yet another echo. "But, _how_? I thought they were in here with you, Ratch'."

Ratchet splayed a hand over his foreplate, lowering his optic lids for a moment of contemplation. He shook his head. "When I stepped out of the Medbay…That's when something happened. I returned…and no one was here…" He paused and suddenly lifted his optics to the group of Autobots, locking his gaze with Mirage. "…No one… but Mirage."

All optics shifted. Mirage lifted himself upright in his berth. Perplexities played in his round gaze, and with a small shake of his head, he onlined his vocalizer to clarify. "I was in recharge. I didn't see anything."

Ratchet sighed. "…No witnesses. I blame myself. I shouldn't have left those two alone." He paused. "Anything could have happened to them…"

"Now, Ratch'," spoke Ironhide. "How were you supposed to know that something like this could happen?"

"Ironhide's right. The blame cannot be placed on you, nor anyone else." Despite the distress harvested within him, Optimus betrayed the feeling with an expression of determination. He faced his band of Autobots. "Perhaps Bumblebee healed, and in the moment, Jaryn could have left the base for time alone. In any case, we'll run a scan of the grounds. If no trace of them is found in the megacycle or so, we'll search for Jaryn...and Bumblebee."

"...Again."

**The Decepticon Base **

"So… I see you kept to your word after all."

In the time of a short moment, plates of yellow armoring sunk beneath replacing alloy panels, each of them colored white and black, clicking and chirring in their mechanical shifting. Thick digits became angular, sharper at the tips, cold and claw-like. A set of blue-hued optics shifted to a scarlet shade in a simple flicker or two. A compartment fit for a laser rifle jutted gently at his back panels. The plasma arm and shoulder cannons were unchanged. They whirred.

"…Jaryn." Starscream gave a lopsided smile. "I knew you wouldn't dupe me, double agent." Gaze narrowing, the Decepticon turned his optics over the fragile being clutched in Jaryn's servos, the precious Autobot that quaked into his Creator's chassis. Starscream lowered a cold digit against the mechling's foreplate, and with a small noise of fright escaping him, Bumblebee drew deep into Jaryn's form. The double agent acted, clutching his Creation so abruptly. The little one cried a sound of pain.

"What about Megatron?" Jaryn questioned Starscream. "Any updates on his status?"

At the sound of the name, a glint of contempt passed the jetformer's optics. His arms came against his chestplate.

His apathetic response, "No. Nothing."

Innocence mixed with perplexities on Bumblebee's infantile complexion, and he locked a rounded gaze on the image of the Decepticon, then to this _mech_ – his _father_. The clutch Jaryn had around him was neither tender nor taut, but somewhere in the middle. Still, the hold was unlike any prior. His servos had the cold touch of a Decepticon's, and his digits – his claws – prodded into Bee's fragile frame.

He couldn't accept this mech as his Creator.

He couldn't, but he had no other choice but to do so.

Tears welling at his optic ducts, Bumblebee gave a mournful whirr. "…D-Dada…"

Jaryn looked to him. There was no warm, amorous glow in his scarlet optics, or a hint of a smile on his lips. Bumblebee only saw a Decepticon, a monster that had possessed his father from the inside and out.

Jaryn's true form.

Jaryn was the mech that bonded with Lexine. He had been the mech to fight his own faction, the Decepticon clones, during that tragic assault on his family unit. He was the mech that had kept an optic out for Bumblebee, his Creation, for one sole purpose in mind: to one day regain supervision of him for yet another time.

"You've regained custody of your little bot again," Starscream spoke. "…And with me…The _new_ leader of the Decepticons." He laughed. "We will _reign_. Bumblebee will be the first addition to our new army."

Jaryn smiled. "And if the Autobots attempt to pursue us?"

"We'll fool them…or obliterate them. Whichever." He grinned.

This entire nightmare had been nothing but a scheme.

Nothing… but a trick of deception.

* * *

The End. For now.

I hope you all enjoyed the read. Again, thank you all so very much.

How'd you like the story? _Review_.


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